Nightmares
by khollie
Summary: Let's see, Marks kills Hardcase, Mark gets killed, Mark has nightmares, then he races, the bad guys are everywhere. Confused yet? This is complete and reposted. It starts on chapter 2 with the new stuff in CH 9.
1. Chapter 2

Nightmares

Mark felt the cold steel of the handcuffs as the red-haired police officer snapped them around his wrists. "Mark McCormick, you are under arrest for the murder of Judge Milton C. Hardcastle. You have the right..." Mark tuned out the rest of the words as he walked slowly to the waiting police car. His world, the world that Judge Milton Hardcastle had made for him, was slipping away. He could see Sarah, the grey-haired woman who ran the estate for the judge, standing on the step, her kind blue eyes now hard in anger.

"How could you, Mark? How could you? He trusted you. And you betrayed him. How?" The angry words followed the young man into the car and echoed around and around his head as the door closed and the car took off, taking Mark away from the only life he had ever learned to enjoy.

Lt. Michael Delaney watched as Mark was loaded into the car and driven off. He had arrived just as the patrol officer had knocked at the gatehouse door and identified himself to Mark. Mark hadn't said a word, in fact, he looked dazed and confused, as though he had just woken up from a deep sleep. The burly black detective had listened as the patrolman tried to get Mark to respond. When that didn't work, the patrolman had simply pulled out his cuffs and had read Mark his rights.

Mike made his way to Sarah who was still standing on the steps of the main house, clutching her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She caught sight of the officer and made a desperate plea. "Please tell me that he isn't dead? He can't be dead. That officer said that the judge was dead and that Mark was responsible. How? Judge Hardcastle loves that boy. And I thought that Mark felt the same way." Shaking her head sadly, Sarah sobbed into her shawl.

"What did they say happened?" Mike asked, taking out his notebook and pen.

"Yesterday evening, the judge and Mark left for that new restaurant up the coast. They were in the Coyote. I was in bed but I heard the Coyote come back. I didn't hear the judge come in, but I figured he and Mark were out talking by the pool. I went to sleep. This morning, the judge didn't come down for breakfast and his bed wasn't slept in. I went to see Mark, but he wouldn't answer the door. That's when I called the police." Sarah cocked her gray head to one side. "You know, they did get here rather quickly."

Mike touched Sarah's arm. "I heard the call for this address too. I'll find out what happened. You just stay here and see if you can find anything in Milt's study that would tell us what they were working on."

"Yes, sir. Although, I don't believe they had started anything else. Mark did get an invitation to a party for one of his old racing buddies for Saturday and I know the two of them were going to that."

"Okay, Sarah. I've got to get going now. I'll call you as soon as I find out anything." Mike jogged to his sedan and took off, driving faster than he normally would to the precinct where Mark was being processed.

Inside the station, Mike found the interrogation room that Mark had been taken to. From inside the adjoining room, the older man could see Mark sitting quietly in the chair with his hands folded on the table. Something in the younger man's manner set off alarm bells in Mike's mind. He turned to face the older, dignified looking gentleman standing by the door.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Cedric Sullivan, I work for the new assistant DA." He straightened his tie and stared down his nose at the homicide detective.

"What is he being charged with?"

"Murder one."

"Based on what?" Mike asked. "I haven't heard anything about Milt's death. He and Mark are both good friends of mine."

"So I understand. That is one reason why you weren't brought in on this."

Mike wanted to slug the smug look off the man's pointed face. He controlled himself and asked another question. "When did you hear about Milt's murder?"

"A tip was called into the office early this morning. Naturally, I followed up on it. Being a retired judge does tend to move you up on the list of cases to be investigated."

Mike tried again. "Where did you find Milt's body?"

"We haven't yet." The man's demeanor began to change slightly.

Mike's voice became low and ominous. "What do you mean you don't have a body? Then, how in the HELL are you charging Mark with murder??" Mike stepped up close to the older man, forcing him up against the wall. "You may be the right hand man to the new assistant district attorney, but that man in there is my friend. I don't want anyone talking to him right now. I will call an attorney for him, I will be there when you question him. Right now, I want to talk to him, then I want to hear all about your so-called evidence."

Cedric Sullivan sputtered and fumed. "You can't do that. You do not have the authority..."

Mike nailed him with a glare. "I have all the authority I need. Now you go tell your boss that Mark McCormick isn't saying a word until he has an attorney present and..SHIT!" At Mike's shout, Sullivan turned to see Mark McCormick slip out of his chair and land in a heap on the cold tile floor.

Mike jerked open the door to the room and ran over to the fallen man. He knelt down by Mark and felt for a pulse. He found one and breathed a sigh of relief. "Call an ambulance!" he shouted through the open door.

"I will not waste the county's resources to coddle a criminal who is obviously faking an illness." Cedric Sullivan sneered. He prodded at Mark's prone body with his foot, "Get up and quit wasting my time."

Mike jumped up and grabbed the slender man by the arm and threw him towards the door. "I said call an ambulance now!" His round face was seething with anger.

Sullivan just looked at the overweight detective in front of him and decided that maybe he should call an ambulance just in case the prisoner wasn't faking. He left the room quickly and shouted down the hall for a medical team to be contacted.

An hour later, the doctor entered the waiting room where Mike was waiting. The detective had filled out the paperwork as well as he could and was now waiting on news of Mark's condition. The paramedics at the station had found a wound on the side of Mark's head but would not comment on how it might have occurred. Mike had also contacted Sarah and told her that Mark was in the hospital. She was waiting at the house for Mike's next call. She was of two minds about Mark. She was worried about him, but at the same time, she wasn't sure if she could trust him or not. There still had been no news about Judge Hardcastle and she was more concerned about that.

Mike looked up and saw the doctor standing in the doorway. "Are you the officer with Mark McCormick?" the older man asked.

"Yes, I'm Detective Mike Delaney. How is Mark?"

"I'm Dr. Evan Saunders. Mr. McCormick should be fine in a day or so. Do you know how he was wounded?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Mike replied.

The white haired doctor sat down beside Mike and turned to him, holding Mark's chart in front of him. "Mr. McCormick has a six inch laceration just above his right ear. Now I don't want to say the boy was in trouble, but it appears that he was shot from behind and the assailant missed. He took eight stitches to close up the wound. He is sleeping now and will for the next several hours. McCormick has a moderate concussion so the nurses will be doing neurological checks once an hour for the next eight hours. If all goes well, he will be ready to go home day after tomorrow." Dr. Saunders consulted his clipboard again.

"He was mumbling about someone, looking for them. Sounded like Milt or Judge?"

Mike dropped his gaze and looked at his strong brown hands. "His best friend, Judge Milton Hardcastle. Right now he is missing and the only link we have is Mark. I was hoping he could tell us where Milt is."

The doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know how much help he will be. He was having a hard time waking up enough to tell us his name, much less anything else. I don't want anyone trying to question him about anything for at least 12 hours and maybe longer. We will just have to see how he does."

Mike stood up and held out his hand to the other man. "Thank you. Just one more question. You said Mark was shot from behind?"

"Yes, the wound was made by a bullet from behind. I have treated enough police officers and other shooting victims to know what to look for." Dr. Saunders shook his head slowly. "I really wish I wasn't sure. I'll come and talk to you after we have him moved to a room." He gave the detective the room number then left.

Mike's head drooped down as he sat back down. He reached for the phone that was sitting on the small table in the corner. Dialing a number, he checked his watch for the time. "Yea, Frank? It's me, I'm still at the hospital. I need a 24 hour guard put on Mark. It looks like someone tried to kill him. I don't want anyone near him but the medical personnel and us. No, I haven't heard anything yet. Call me here if you do find out anything. I'll be back as soon as a patrolman gets here. See ya."

Mike walked down the hall to Mark's room. The injured man was in a private room on the third floor. Mike stood by the bedside and gripped the raised bed rail. Mark was sleeping quietly now, but Mike could see where the medics had cleaned and sewn up the gash on his head.. He was pale but otherwise looked unharmed. "What happened, Mark?" Mike asked quietly.

Twenty minutes later, a uniformed officer knocked on the door and stepped inside. Mike knew the young man and silently blessed Frank for sending a good man.

"Good afternoon, Detective," he greeted the older man.

"Hi Dave. Did Frank give you any background here?"

Dave Gibbs shook his head. "A bit. He said someone tried to kill Mark here and the judge is missing. There's talk in the station that Mark was arrested for killing Judge Hardcastle, but that's absurd. Mark loves that old man." The 30 something year old redhead wasn't known for his tact, but he was the perfect man to keep a secret.

"That's all we know right now. I don't want anyone but the medical staff or me and Frank in here. I especially don't want anyone from the DA's office to get in here without me." Mike's face was hard set.

"I've heard some stories already about that new guy, Sullivan. I haven't heard of anyone who likes him yet." Dave stroked his chin thoughtfully. "How is he involved in this?"

"He had Mark here arrested for Judge Hardcastle's murder on the strength of a telephone call, no follow-up."

Dave closed his eyes and pretended to shudder. "And he thinks that Mark killed the judge? Has he not heard anything about these two?"

"Nope." Mike let the subject drop. "Call me if anyone tries to get in here. Someone tried to kill Mark and I don't intend for them to have a second chance. He is in protective custody as of an hour ago."

"Don't worry, Lt. I know most of the staff here and I'm just mean enough to keep out the riff-raff." Dave held out his hand to shake Mike's and then settled himself in a chair outside of Mark's door. He kept the door open slightly so he could see Mark on the bed and hear him when he started to wake up. He had met Mark shortly after the young man had accepted the unique parole arrangement with the retired judge and had a high respect for him. Mark had a fierce streak of loyalty to those whom he accepted as friends and Dave understood and appreciated that.

Mike drove slowly back to the station and tried to make sense out of the situation. The most puzzling aspect was how did Mark get back to the estate after being shot. The Coyote, Mike still wished he could drive that race car just once, was back at the estate and Sarah had reported hearing it drive in. It was highly unlikely that Mark's would-be killers would have driven him home.

Mike settled into his chair and pulled open the bottom left drawer of his desk. Though his friends didn't know it, the detective kept a special set of files there, files on both of his friends and the current cases they were working on. He had started the practice to help Hardcastle keep current on events and people and now needed to use it to try and find out what had happened to his friends. He had just picked up the phone to give Sarah a call when his door was opened and Sullivan marched angrily into the small room.

"How dare you! You had no right to place McCormick in protective custody! The staff at the hospital denied me permission to see him without YOUR authorization. I am trying to run a murder investigation here and you are interfering with the interrogation of the chief suspect!" Sullivan's eyes were hard and his mouth was set in an angry scowl.

Mike leaned back in his chair with his fingers laced over his stomach, a slow smile snaking it's way over his features. "That's right. Mark McCormick is the victim of an attempted murder. He was shot in the head from behind. Someone tried to execute that boy, probably the same person who is responsible for the disappearance of Judge Hardcastle. If you would get your head out of your ass, you could see that Mark McCormick is the last person who would hurt Milt." Mike smiled even wider at the shocked look on his visitor's face.

"And just to sweeten the pot, you are my chief suspect. I want any and all of your files on this case, including your so-called informant. If I have to, I'll get a warrant for them. And since this is a retired judge we are talking about, I doubt that I'll have any trouble getting a bench warrant in about 30 minutes flat." Now Mike stood up behind his desk. "And DO NOT let me catch you..." The rest of his sentence died as his office door was opened again and a new visitor entered the room.

"Milt!" Mike nearly jumped out of his chair at the site of the disheveled figure that had entered his office. He quickly took note of his friend's dirty clothing, matted hair, and missing ball cap. Milton Hardcastle never took off the faded baseball cap if he could help it. Mike literally pushed Sullivan out of the way as he reached for the exhausted man who had entered his office.

"Where have you been? I've got the whole force out looking for you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Mike gently guided the older man to a chair. The fact that Hardcastle let himself be guided spoke volumes to the detective.

"We were kidnaped yesterday. Mark and I started out for dinner up the coast. First we went out to Indian Dunes to test the new tires on the Coyote. We must have been followed because suddenly there were half a dozen armed men on us." Hardcastle's voice lowered and he buried his face in his hands. "One of them pushed me and...and Mark went after him. They shot him, Mike. One of them threw him on the ground and shot him." The jurist's voice was muffled and full of hurt. He drew a deep breath and continued. "Then they dragged me to a car and we drove for a couple of hours. We finally stopped in some beach house. They were going to call Sarah with a ransom demand in the morning. I got loose during the night and got out while they were asleep. I hid out in the woods and fell asleep for a while. This morning I managed to get a ride into town. I walked here from the gas station down on Miller."

Now Hardcastle looked up at Mike's broad face. "They just left him lying out there. We have to go...go get him." Hardcastle buried his face in his hands. Mark had to listen close to hear the anguished whisper. "Mark's dead and I couldn't help him."

Mike leaned over and placed both hands on Hardcastle's forearms. He gave a firm squeeze as he spoke. "Mark's alive, Milt. He's hurt but he's alive. He's in the hospital with Gibbs watching over him. He's got some stitches and a bad concussion, but the doc says he's gonna be just fine."

Hardcastle looked up with a shadow of hope lighting up his eyes. "Mark's alive?" he asked softly.

"Yes." Mike straightened up. "Let's get you cleaned up, then I'll take you to see him. The doc said he would sleep for several hours." Mike reached for Hardcastle's arm to help him out of the chair when Sullivan pushed him out of the way.

"Judge Hardcastle. I'm Cedric Sullivan, with the District Attorney's office. I need you to come with me and give me a complete statement while it is still fresh in your memory. There have been allegations made that must be cleared up immediately." Sullivan drew himself up and gave a small twisted grimace that was intended to be an official smile.

Hardcastle pushed up from the chair and faced Sullivan. "So you're Sullivan." he stated without preamble. "I've heard about you. And right now, I'm going to see Mark. After that, I am going to get something to eat and clean up and then, I will make a statement."

"That will not do, Your Honor. Mr. McCormick has been placed under arrest for your reported murder. While that charge will be dropped, I still do not have any evidence that clears him of complicity in your so-called kidnaping. You will not be permitted to see him until..." Sullivan stopped talking and backed up a step as Hardcastle drew up and leaned in close to him.

"I said, I am going to see Mark. As for his 'complicity' you can shove that up your ass." Never one to hide his feelings of annoyance, Hardcastle was showing Mike a whole new level in communication. "Those men shot Mark. I thought he was dead. I will investigate this and I will find them." Hardcastle's voice and eyes told Sullivan that the judge meant every word and more. Sullivan tried to reassert control.

"You will do no such thing. I am in charge of this case and you will do precisely what I say. Mr. McCormick..."

"Is in MY protective custody." Mike inserted. "Someone tried to kill him. That makes him a victim, not a criminal." Mike gently tugged at Milt's elbow. "Let's go, Milt. I know you haven't even called Sarah yet, have you?"

The two men left the office, totally ignoring Sullivan who was still trying to protest Hardcastle's treatment of him. They were followed down the hall by the sound of Sullivan's voice demanding that they return and follow correct police procedure. Hardcastle stalked down the hall, his face set in a grim mask while Mike tried to keep pace with him.

Hardcastle was silent as the two men made their way down the hall and out the front door to Mike's car. He was unaware of the whispers and pointed fingers and stares of astonishment that followed him. Most of the precinct had heard of his 'murder' and Mark's arrest and subsequent collapse. Mike was aware of the whispers but choose to ignore them, preferring instead to get the judge to the hospital to see Mark.

Hardcastle had admitted to himself long ago that Mark meant more to him than just someone to help him go after criminals. Mark had become the closest friend he had. Mark understood him like no one else had ever bothered to try. The young ex-con knew that Hardcastle had to be rough and gruff just to keep his distance from people. The judge had lots of friends and acquaintances but had no one to share life with. Once he'd had a wife and a son, before cancer and war had taken both of them, along with Hardcastle's ability to share and trust. Then he had found Mark.

Mark had come from a long history of abandonment and struggles to survive. He had ended up in prison for stealing his own car, courtesy of Judge Milton Hardcastle. Though he would never admit it, Hardcastle had tried every way the law allowed not to send Mark inside. He could sense that the young man didn't belong there, but the law was the law. He had kept track of the young man and had followed him closely once he had gotten out. They had been brought together again when Mark had stolen a race car to help the daughter of a murdered friend. From that beginning, the two had become a family of sorts.

Hardcastle stalked down the halls of the hospital, unaware of Mike's guiding hand on his elbow. He stopped at the door to Mark's room, startled to see the husky officer sitting just outside. He turned to Mike.

"Judge Hardcastle?" Gibbs jumped up from the chair, dropping his newspaper. "What? How? Are you alright? What happened?"

Mike reached around the older man and placed a hand on Dave's arm. "I'll tell you in a bit. How's Mark doing?"

Dave shook his head slowly as he moved out of the judge's way. He opened the door and stared at the pale figure there on the bed. "Go on in, Your Honor. He needs to know you are here." He stood silently at the door as the jurist entered the room. He waited till Hardcastle was at the bedside before turning to Mike.

"He hasn't been awake at all. The nurses have been doing their thing, but he just lies there. The doc came in about an hour ago. He said it might just be too early for him to wake up yet, but he is worried too."

"Personally, I think he is waiting on Milt to get here." Mike said simply. Now he turned to face the uniformed officer. "Has anyone else tried to get in here?"

"No sir. I heard that Sullivan called but was told no go. I don't think anyone else knows that Mark is here. I called Miss Sarah and gave her a report on Mark. She is really upset. Have you called her and let her know that the Judge is back?" Dave cocked his head to one side with the question.

"I'm taking Milt home in a few minutes. He can explain everything to Sarah then. I need to check out Mark's place. I have one hell of a big question to answer. How did he drive the Coyote home in his condition?"

Dave smiled as he spoke. "I've got a better one. How in the hell did the arresting officer miss a six inch laceration on the side of his head?"

Hardcastle slowly approached the bed, never taking his eyes off the still figure lying there. He reached out gently and laid a hand on the raised bed rail. He was afraid to touch Mark, afraid to find that his worst nightmare had come true after all and he was alone again. His eyes drifted from the side of Mark's head where he could see the shaved patch of hair and some of the stitches to the IV in his left arm and back to Mark's pale face. Slowly, the judge reached down and stroked the back of his friend's right hand.

"I thought I'd lost ya there, McCormick," he said gruffly. "What on earth did you think you were doing jumping that guy like that? Now look at ya. I thought you told me that you hated hospitals. Tell ya what, you wake up right now and I'll see to it that you at least get a good looking nurse." Hardcastle searched Mark's face for an answer, feeling mildly let down when Mark didn't open his eyes and start grousing.

Mike and Dave had both entered the room and were shook by the image of 'Hardcase" Hardcastle looking so sad and lost. They had both known that the judge was fond of the young ex-con, but neither one had ever thought about how much Milt had come to regard the younger man as family. Mike felt his heart break at the realization that the tough as nails judge had nearly lost the only family he had left. He wasn't sure that his friend could take another loss. He turned to whisper to Dave.

"I've got to get him out of here. It may take both of us. Who else can we call in here to protect Mark?"

Dave thought for a moment. "Tom Kinney. He's had a soft spot for Mark since the day he met him." Dave was referring to the day that Mark had stolen the Coyote, the race car that his dead friend had designed. Tom's police car had crashed while chasing Mark, prompting Mark to stop and get him out of the burning car. In spite of the fact that Mark had saved his life, Tom was forced to arrest Mark at his apartment the next day for the theft. Tom had been grateful when he heard about Mark's arrangement with Judge Hardcastle and the rest of the story behind the Coyote. The two men had become friends and occasionally saw each other just for laughs.

"Good choice. He knows Mark and he hates Sullivan with a passion. Go call him. If he is on duty, I'll talk to the duty sergeant to get him assigned to me for the next few days." Mike grinned at the memory of the only time he had seen Cedric Sullivan trying to talk his way around Officer Tom Kinney. Tom had been assigned to watch a juvenile suspect and wait for his lawyer when Sullivan had tried to bully his way into the interrogation room. Sullivan had convinced himself that with just five minutes of questioning he would get a complete confession out of the 14 year old boy. He had never stopped to read the notes in the chart about the parents having been contacted and the orders to hold all interviews until the family lawyer was present. Officer Kinney had the distinct pleasure to lecture Sullivan, quite forcefully and loudly, on the finer points of law, namely that the accused was entitled to representation before any questioning could take place.


	2. Chapter 3

Mike couldn't make up his mind about Sullivan. Either the man was the craftiest politician he had ever met, or the man only held on to his job because he had something on the DA. Either way, incompetent didn't begin to sum up the man's abilities. Mike really wished he knew how Sullivan remained employed in the DA's office.

Dave left the room to make the call at the nurse's desk. Mike went over to stand beside Hardcastle. He noticed that Milt looked old and tired for the first time since the judge had retired. "He's gonna be okay, Milt."

"I know." Hardcastle forced himself to turn to look at Mike. "Okay, now I want the whole story. How did you find Mark and what is this crap about him being under arrest for my murder?" Unconsciously, Milt reached down to lay his warm hand on Mark's cold one as he listened to Mike's story.

Once again Hardcastle erupted with fury at Sullivan. "How in the hell did he think he would get away with arresting someone for capital murder on the basis of a single phone call? And who in the hell was the arresting officer? Why didn't he see that Mark was hurt? He could be in big trouble for not getting an injured suspect medical attention. And you said that Sullivan kicked Mark?"

Mike made a waving motion with his hand to get Hardcastle's attention. "I've started an investigation into the arrest. Mark is here in protective custody as the victim of an attempted murder. You have since corroborated that view. I talked to Frank Harper and he is looking into the arrest and will interview the arresting officer. I have Tom Kinney on the way down here to take over from Dave so he and I can go over Mark's place and the Coyote to see if we can get any answers there." Now Mike laid a hand on Milt's shoulder.

"The next thing we need to do is get you home for some rest and clean clothes. Unless of course, you want me to check you into the ER for an exam?"

"I don't need a doctor, and I'm not leaving here until Mark wakes up." Hardcastle stated simply.

"Milt, you can't stay here looking like this. You need a shower, some clean clothes, sleep." Mike said reasonably.

"Just call Sarah and have her bring me some things. There's a shower in the bathroom in the corner and I can sleep in that chair. I'm not leaving Mark alone. What if the bad guys come back to finish the job?"

"Tom Kinney or Dave will be right outside the door. Beside which, I need you to help me go through Mark's house to see if anything is out of place. I don't know what belongs there and what doesn't." Mike could see that he was fighting a losing battle.

Hardcastle looked at Mike for a long moment before giving his strongest argument. "I don't want him to wake up alone. He nearly died to save my life. I won't leave him."

Mike took a deep breath. He knew that he had lost this round. "Okay. You call Sarah and have her bring you some clothes and stuff. I will have Dave take down your statement and he can run it over to the precinct when Tom gets here. I am heading over to your place now to look over Mark's house, with your permission of course."

"Done." Hardcastle fished in his pocket and came up with a set of keys. "Here are the keys to Mark's place. Let me know what you find." Hardcastle pulled up a chair and sat down by Mark's side. "I need to talk to the doctor in charge too. Find out how the kid is really doing."

Mike pocketed the keys and gave his old friend a long, knowing look. "I'll see about getting him in here for you. I'll come back when I finish at Mark's. Can you describe these guys well enough to get a good composite done of them?"

"Sure can. Guys like these have already had their pictures taken. Send down some mug books with Tom and I'll go through them. It shouldn't be..."

Hardcastle was interrupted by a groan from the bed. He sprang up and leaned over the railing. "Mark? Can you hear me? Wake up now." His tone was gentle and urging, not at all like the gruff tone he usually used with the young man.

Mark began to move his head from side to side. "Don't! Judge! Look out!" Mark's eyes shot open and he began to thrash around in the bed. Suddenly, his body jerked and he fell back weakly against the pillow. "Sorry, Milt. Couldn't stop...shot...hurts...don't wanna die...help..." Mark's voice trailed off, his eyes closed once more, and he appeared to be sleeping once again.

Hardcastle lowered the bed rail and grasped Mark's shoulders gently. "Mark, Mark wake up. It's me. You're okay. You're in the hospital. Everything's fine now. Just wake up for me." Milt's voice was soft and tears lurked in his eyes. When Mark continued to sleep, he settled for brushing Mark's now sweaty cheek and holding his hand. "I'll be here when you wake up, Mark. I'll be here."

Mike laid a gentle hand on Hardcastle's back. "Mark needs you here, Milt. I'll go call Sarah and get her here. She must be going nuts not knowing what is going on. As far as she knows, you're dead and Mark is in jail for it. She'll be glad to know that both of you are going to be fine."

Hardcastle's eyes never left Mark's still face. "Will he be okay? Will he really be okay?"

Mike didn't have an answer. All he had was the doctor's assurances that Mark's injury wasn't permanent. "Let me get the doc for you. He can give you more information on Mark." Mike didn't know what else to say. He left the room quietly and walked down to the nurse's station to ask for the doctor to come to Mark's room.

Hardcastle knew that his friend had left and was silently grateful. He was sore and tired and worried about his young charge. He finally sat back down in the hard plastic chair and reached through the rails to lay his hand back on Mark's. The events of the past twenty four hours replayed through his mind. It wasn't the first time that he and Mark had been in trouble but at least before they had been in control. This time, trouble had found them totally unprepared. He really wished that he knew why they had been attacked and just who had done the job.

When the doctor entered the room a few minutes later, he found the judge sitting with his eyes closed. He cleared his throat and gave a little smile at how fast the older man jumped up.

"My name is Doctor Saunders. I treated Mark when he came in. I was told that you have a few questions." He opened the chart he had brought in with him and scanned it. "I understand that you hold Mr. McCormick's health proxy. That is the only reason I can talk to you, since you aren't a police officer in his case."

"He lives with me. I'm sorta his parole officer, and his friend." Hardcastle offered by way of explanation. He saw the upraised eyebrows on the doctor and decided that the explanations could wait till later. "How is he, really?"

The doctor consulted the chart once more, closed it, and looked Hardcastle in the eye. "He could be better. He suffered a gunshot wound to the side of the head. That resulted in a moderate concussion compounded by a delay in treatment. The nurses have reported that he has not woken up yet and is giving only minimal responses to their neurochecks. I would have liked to see him more alert by this time, but I see no evidence of advanced swelling in the brain. Right now the best thing for him is rest."

Hardcastle told the doctor about Mark's statements just minutes earlier. The doctor was encourage by the news and made more notes in Mark's chart.

"Is it okay for me to stay here with him?" Hardcastle asked while the doctor was writing.

Dr. Saunders looked Milt up and down before answering. "You look like you could use a shower, some food, and a good sleep. Why don't you go on home for a few hours then come back?"

"A friend is bringing some food and clothes back. I thought I'd just use the shower in here and maybe catch a nap in the chair." Hardcastle replied.

"And you will do exactly that no matter what I say, right?" Dr. Saunders smiled softly.

"Yeah", was the only answer Hardcastle could truthfully muster.

"Then that will have to do. As for Mark, talk to him, touch him, give him something to focus on. I'll have the nurses continue to check on him every hour, and please call me if anything changes."

"Actually," Hardcastle rubbed the side of his nose, "When Mark was talking in his sleep earlier it sounded like a nightmare of what happened."

"Good. That may mean that he will wake up soon and that his memory may be unimpaired. Many times, there is some memory lapse surrounding the events of a brain injury."

Hardcastle was puzzled. "You mean, Mark may not remember me?

Dr. Saunders gripped Milt's shoulder. "Nothing as dramatic as that. He just may not remember being shot, which in my view, isn't always a bad thing." The doctor smiled his goodbye and left the room quietly, leaving Judge Hardcastle alone with his thoughts.

Mike parked his car in front of the house at Gull's Way and wasn't surprised to see Sarah coming out the door before he shut off the engine. "Have you heard anything? How's Mark? Have you found the judge?"

Mike held up a hand to stop the barrage of questions from the normally unflappable housekeeper. "Mark is going to be fine. He's sleeping now. And yes, we found Milt." Mike boldly put an arm around Sarah and guided her back into the house. He passed up the den and headed for the kitchen where he deposited her at the table.

"To tell the truth, Milt found us." Mike grinned broadly as he recounted the events in his office and told Sarah about Sullivan having Mark arrested falsely.

"That horrible man!" she exclaimed. "Well, I can just tell you that his career is over by the time the judge gets through with him. Any man that treats people like that deserves to be put in jail themselves. Poor Mark! Shot and left for dead?" She looked at Mike for confirmation.

Sarah got up briskly from the table. "Well now, I'll just put together a package of food for His Honor, and I'll find him some clean clothes too. Could you just pop on down to the gatehouse and pick up a few things for Mark? He'll need something comfortable to wear."

Mike asked where the Coyote was and Sarah pointed to the gatehouse. "It's parked in front. Mark never parks it there. He insists that it be kept in the garage at all times. I used to wish that he would pay as much attention to the yardwork as he does to that car..." her voice trailed off as she climbed the stairs to the judge's bedroom.

Mike left the house by the kitchen door and walked down the concrete path to the gatehouse. He could see the Coyote out front and decided to save it for last. Opening the back French doors, Mike let himself into Mark's home. The first thing he saw was the bloody towel lying on the floor by the coffee table. One of Mark's good shirts was lying on the arm of the couch, the shoulder was soaked in dried blood. Even though he knew that Mark was alive and that head wounds did tend to bleed heavily, Mike had to fight not to gag at the sight of the bloody shirt and the memory of what might have happened..

Mike slowly made his way upstairs and found nothing out of place. Since Mark never made his bed, the officer couldn't tell if it had been slept in or not. After picking out a set of sweat pants and a t-shirt from the closet, Mike collected socks and underwear before heading back downstairs. He stuffed the clothes into a paper sack, then headed outside to check on Mark's race car.

The Coyote, as it was called, was standing in front of Mark's door with the keys still in the ignition. Another red flag went up in Mike's cerebral file. Peering inside, he could see bloodstains on the passenger seat and doorframe. Whoever had parked the Coyote had brought Mark home, there was no way that Mark had driven this car. Mike's search was interrupted by the arrival of a VW van driven by a curly haired young black man. The officer straightened up at the boy's approach.

"Can I help you, son?" Mike asked.

"I just came to check on Mark. I drove him home last night. He was hurt pretty bad but kept saying that he had to find the judge."

Mike's ears perked up. "What time was this and where did you find Mark?"

The young man thought for a moment. "About nine or ten last night. Some buddies and me were down at Indian Dunes for a little party and Mark was lying in the dirt. We figured he was out doing some racing and got hurt. No one else was around so me and my buddies picked him up and brought him home. I sure hope he don't mind that I drove the Coyote. Anyway, I cleaned up his head, helped him change his shirt and he said he was going to look for the judge. I left. My buddies picked me up outside the gate. Old Judge Hardcastle threatened to have my van towed if I ever brought it here, but I really wanted to check on Mark. He wasn't none to steady on his feet when I left him." He steadied his gaze at Mike.

"You're that cop friend of his, right?"

"Yes, I'm Lt. Delaney. Did you see anything or anyone else down at the Dunes last night?"

The boy thought hard. "Nope. I saw Mark a couple of days ago at the store and he told me about a party this weekend. Something about his old racing buddies."

"Thanks kid. If you hear anything else, you call me or Judge Hardcastle."

"Sure, but where's Mark?"

"Mark is in the hospital." Mike pulled himself up to his full height. "Look son, someone tried to kill Mark last night and they kidnapped Judge Hardcastle. Whoever did it, thinks Mark is dead. We've got him in the hospital now, but I need you to keep that information a secret for now. Can you do that for me.."

"Wayne. I'm Wayne Knotts. Sure, I won't tell anybody. Who would do that? Mark's a great guy. Why would anyone want to hurt him?"

"We think he just got in the way. Now, whoever it is may try to come after him again, so remember, you don't know where Mark is. Got it?" Mike put on his most serious Cop voice.

"Yes sir. If you find Mark," a sly grin crossed Wayne's face, "tell him to get in touch with me." Wayne waved a goodbye, climbed back into his van, and drove off.

Mike pulled at his chin as he walked back to the house. "That answers a few questions. Now for the big one. Who did this?"

Mike gathered up Sarah and the things she had collected and drove back to the hospital. He nodded to Tom who had taken up the chair at the entrance to Mark's room. Tom held out a hand to stop him after allowing Sarah to enter.

"What's up?" Mike asked.

Tom Kinney pulled at the sleeve of his shirt. "That asswipe Sullivan was here again. He threatened the med staff with jail time for obstruction of justice if he didn't get in to see McCormick. The judge doesn't know this. I heard the doc send Sullivan up to the administrator's office a little while ago. I'll bet you can catch him there." Tom was hoping that Mike could do something to keep Sullivan away from Mark and the judge.

"We'll see about that. Did you bring the bench warrant?"

Tom smiled. "Sure did." He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "I got a letter here as well. I haven't given it to the judge yet, thought you might want that pleasure yourself."

Mike smiled warmly. "That will be my pleasure." He motioned to the door. "Keep an eye on all of them. I don't want Sarah to leave alone, I'll take her home. I really doubt that we will get Hardcastle to leave."

"Don't worry, Lt. I'll make sure that they aren't disturbed." Tom sat back down, making sure that he could see inside the door to the room as Mike headed for the elevator.

Mike made his up to the administrator's office and asked the secretary outside to announce him.

"Mr. Little is quite busy at the moment. If you will have a seat, sir, he will be with you shortly." The prim little woman looked back down to her computer keyboard.

"You don't understand, ma'am. My name is Lt. Mike Delaney with the LA police department. I am meeting with Mr. Little and Mr. Sullivan." Mike turned on his most polite smile.

The secretary gave another prim smile. "Let me ring you through." She picked up the phone and spoke quietly for a moment. "You may go in now, Officer."

Mike gave a small salute, took the papers from his inside jacket pocket, and strode through the door. He was just in time to hear the rest of Sullivan's argument.

"Mark McCormick is a suspect in a kidnaping case. The DA's office is under great pressure to catch the culprits responsible for abducting Judge Hardcastle. It is unfortunate that the judge is unable to see McCormick's involvement. Ex-convicts are dangerous and..."he stopped and his face began a slow burn as he spotted Mike.

Mike smiled broadly. "Mr. Little. Thank you for agreeing to see me. I have here a bench warrant holding Mark McCormick in protective custody pending the capture of his attackers. I also have a court order restricting visitors to Mr. McCormick's room to myself, the medical staff and those persons authorized by Judge Milton C. Hardcastle, who holds Mark's health proxy." Mike handed over the papers, the picture of perfect innocence.

"Now see here!" Sullivan grabbed the papers out of the administrator's grasp. "I did not authorize this. Who is responsible for this nonsense?" Sullivan's face was fast approaching a deep purple.

"I think you'll find that the warrant is signed by Judge Washington. He also signed the orders for restricting access to Mark." Mike had to work hard to keep from rocking on his heels in satisfaction. "I will want a complete list of the nurses and other personnel on that floor and no one will enter without checking with the officer on duty. Judge Hardcastle will make any additions or corrections to that list."

Administrator Little took the papers from Sullivan and studied them intently for a few moments. "These look all in order to me. I will give orders to have this implemented immediately." His tone and facial expression indicated that the meeting was over. He motioned with his hand for the two police officers to precede him out of the room.

Outside of the office, a very angry Sullivan threw out an arm to stop Mike. "I don't give a damn what some panty waisted judge did. McCormick deserves to be in jail and I will see that he gets there. And just for fun, I'll see you right there beside him." He did his best to sound intimidating.

Mike drew himself up to his full height and leveled his gaze on Sullivan. "You go right ahead and try. I will personally see to it that you are served with an arrest warrant for interference with a police officer, violation of a restraining order, false arrest, terroristic threatening, assault and battery for kicking Mark in the station, and just for kicks, impersonating an officer of the law. Have a nice day." Mike walked off without a backward glance, the sounds of Sullivan's sputtering echoing down the hallway behind him.

Officer Tom Kinney stood and stretched out the kinks in his back. He had been sitting in the hard chair for nearly three hours now and needed a break. The last time he had gotten to walk around a bit was two hours ago when Mike Delaney had come back from the hospital administrator's office with a huge grin planted on his face. He had promised to tell Tom the whole story over a beer when the current crisis was solved. He had then left to take Sarah home before heading back to the police station to review more files in an attempt to find a suspect.

The Current Crisis. 'What a title for this day', Tom said silently. He pushed open the hospital door a bit more and saw Mark lying in the bed and the judge asleep in the cushioned chair on the left side of the bed. The nursing staff had been sympathetic to the old man and had brought him a chair out of the nurse's lounge. In spite of all their urges and threats, Hardcastle refused to leave his young charge. Mark had been showing signs of waking up when the nurse had come in to try to wake him, but stubbornly refused to open his eyes and talk her. The doctor had stopped by once more and was optimistic that Mark would wake up soon. Even now Tom could see that Mark was making random moves, almost as if he were dreaming.

"NO!"

The shout caught Tom unaware and he jumped, opening the door further as he did so. He saw the judge jump as well then came out of his chair to grab Mark's flailing hand. "I'm here, Kiddo. It's me. Wake up now." Hardcastle's voice was warm and supporting, something that Tom still had a hard time imagining.

Mark's eyes shot open as he came up in the bed, one hand outstretched as though to stop something and one hand going to his head. He sagged down abruptly into Milt's arms and let himself be guided back down on the bed. "Oh my head." was all he could say.

"That must have been some dream. You awake yet?" Milt asked. He could see Tom standing in the doorway and motioned for him to get the nurse.

"I hope not. My head is killing me. What happened?" Mark's voice was weak and soft and his eyes were closed again.

"I was hoping you could tell me." Hardcastle sat back down, never letting go of Mark's hand.

"I was standing, and there was a guy, and then, then..." Mark's voice trailed off and he appeared to be sleeping again. Milt gently started shaking his shoulder.

"Come on, Mark. Time to get up. You don't expect me to let you sleep all day do ya?" He was rewarded with another groan and a feeble wave of Mark's hand.

"Let me sleep, please. You wouldn't believe the headache I've got. I hope the party was worth it." Some of Mark's spunk was creeping back into his voice.

A big grin plastered itself onto Hardcastle's face. He heard the nurse coming in and jerked his head toward the bed. She returned the grin and stood on Mark's right side.

"Mr. McCormick? Can you open your eyes for me?" she coaxed softly.

Mark opened one eye, looked at her for a few seconds, then closed the eye and let out a loud groan. "What happened and why am I in the hospital?" Now, both eyes flew open and he tried to sit up again. "The Coyote! I crashed it? Where's the judge? Hardcastle!!" Mark's voice and face were both full of panic as he grabbed at the nurse's arms.

"It's ok, Mark." Hardcastle gripped Mark's shoulder and pulled the young man over to face him. "I'm right here. I'm fine, and so are you."

Mark's arms reached out for his friend and he pulled Hardcastle down into an awkward hug. "You're ok? You're here?" To the nurse, Mark sounded like an injured child looking for assurances from a parent that everything was fine. She smiled softly as she watched the two men. When Milt looked askance at her, she gave an encouraging nod for him to keep talking.

"Yeah, I'm here, kid. You're the one lying in that bed. Now just ease on back there and let the nurse do her thing for ya." Milt's voice held a hint of gruffness in it, gruffness that was belied by the unshed tears in his eyes.

"Good idea." Mark conceded as he let Hardcastle lower him back down to the bed. "My head feels like someone used it for football practice. What happened?" His hand went to the side of his head and lingered on the stitches over his right ear.

"Why don't you tell me what happened, Mark?" The nurse took over. "My name is Alexis and I'm your nurse for the next few hours at least. You've been out for a while now."

Mark opened his eyes gently and looked at the woman. He saw an older black woman with gray streaks in her short curly hair, warm brown eyes, and a smile that would be a perfect fit on any grandmother worth her salt. "My head really hurts." he said again, softly.

"I know. Now just look at my finger and follow it with your eyes." Alexis ran through the short neurological test quickly. Mark was able to do everything with only a few hesitations until she came to the question, "Now, what is the date today?"

Mark pondered that one. "The last I remember it was Tuesday, the eighth?" it came out more as a question than an answer.

"Close enough. You've been asleep for a while. Try Wednesday the ninth." She wrote a few notes on the pad she pulled out of her pocket. Next she pulled a penlight out and reached for Mark's head. "I need to check your eyes and your stitches, hon." A quick check showed the stitches were holding nicely and Mark objected loudly to the light shining in his eyes.

"Okay, I'm done. I'm gonna go call Doc Saunders and have him come down here and talk to you. Try to stay awake till he gets here." She looked at him sternly at his mumbled 'Yes, ma'am' and let herself out of the room.

Tom stopped her briefly. "Is he okay?"


	3. Chapter 4

Alexis laid her brown hand on his arm. "I think so. The doctor will be able to tell you more. Right now, he just needs rest to heal up.

Mark gently rolled over on his side to face the judge. "So what happened? How did I end up here and how long have I been here?"

Hardcastle didn't know how much he should tell Mark. He had always made it his policy to tell the truth to the younger man. Mark's past was full of lies, disappointments, and abandonment. Hardcastle was determined not to let that happen again. Mark had come to mean to much to him to lie, but what would hurt more now? A little white lie, or the knowledge that someone had tried to kill him, someone who was still at large? Hardcastle settled for a thin middle line.

"The doc wants you to try and remember on your own. I can tell you that you took a bad blow to the head. He's afraid it will scramble what few brain cells you've got up there so you have to work it out yourself. What do you remember?"

Mark's brow furrowed in thought. "We were planning on going to dinner at BaySide Warehouse, that new fish place you heard of, we talked about going to...to...a party this weekend? We got in the Coyote...and that's it. I don't remember anything past that. Was all that yesterday?" Mark's eyes closed and he pressed his hands against his eyes. "God, my head hurts." Some of the pain was evident in his voice. "Can I get something for this? I'd kill for a bottle of aspirin right now."

Hardcastle decided that Mark could answer questions later. "Just try to get some sleep. I'll go and ask the nurse if you can have something." Mark just nodded miserably as Milt rose from his chair and headed for the door. He clapped Tom on the shoulder as he passed him on his way to the nurse's desk.

Milt approached the desk quietly when he saw that Alexis was on the phone. He could hear part of her conversation. "He just woke up. No, he doesn't remember. ... You said you wanted to know when he woke up... I couldn't ask him with Hardcastle there... Look, I have to go now. I have to call the doc so he can look at him again...I'd better get it, or you won't."

Milt backed away from the desk and stood around the corner. Who was she talking to? She had to have been talking about Mark but to whom? Should he move Mark? Was Mark in even more danger? In typical fashion, Judge Milton C. Hardcastle decided to attack the problem head on. Standing up straight and taking a deep breath, the judge started back around the corner.

Hardcastle stopped at the corner of the desk just as Alexis hung up the phone and turned around. "Hello, Judge. Did you need something else?" Her manner was open and her smile seemed genuine. She wasn't acting as though she were hiding a secret. Milt decided the direct route was best.

"Who were you talking to about Mark?"

Alexis' smile widened. "You heard me, huh? You found out my deep, dark secret. I had a phone call to make to keep a promise." She reached out and captured Hardcastle's hand in hers. "Mike Delaney. I was talking to Mike. He's my nephew and he asked me to keep an eye on the both of you when he left to take Miss Sarah home."

Hardcastle felt himself relax. "Why the secrecy?"

Alexis lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Would you claim him? Actually, he asked if I would trade shifts to be here just to have someone else he could trust on this floor. He told me the whole story. Since I live alone, I'm used to pulling double shifts. No one will question why I'm here all the time." She let go of the judge's hand and picked up a pen and paper. "Now, here is the number to this desk. The doc is on his way up and will probably give Mark a mild painkiller for his head. You are to go home, eat, and sleep for at least six hours before you come back. Mark has two of us looking out for him and all he is going to do is sleep."

Hardcastle had to agree. He still felt fatigued from his own ordeal. Sleeping in the chair had been anything but restful and he needed to be alert and ready for anything. "You'll call me if he wakes up and needs anything?"

"Of course, Your Honor. Officer Kinney seems like a good man and there is a very short list of who is allowed in Mark's room. Even the housekeeping staff isn't allowed in." Alexis turned on her most winning smile. "Besides, Mike and I have a deal. He takes care of you, I take care of Mark, and then everyone gets some of my homemade gingerbread."

Hardcastle had one last question to ask. "What are you going to ask Mark that you don't want me to hear?"

Alexis lowered her voice. "I need to prod his memory a bit. See if he knows of any reason why someone would take you and try to kill him. Mike wants Mark to agree to stay in protective custody until whoever shot him is caught. He seems to feel that the two of you might argue the point."

Milt started to deny her statement, then caught himself with a chuckle. "Yeah, we probably would at that." Hardcastle ran his hand down his face. "I'll stay with Mark till the doc comes by and then I'll go on home for a bit. Can I use your phone to call for a ride?"

"How about I call Frank for you? I know that Mike is going back to Indian Dunes to look around some more. It's gonna be dark soon and he doesn't want to lose whatever might be out there. He gave me Frank's number to call if you needed anything." She gave another one of her grand motherly smiles.

"That would be real nice of ya. I'll just go sit with Mark for a bit till he gets here." Hardcastle gave a small salute to the nurse and disappeared back into Mark's room, clapping Tom on the shoulder as he went in.

Mark was sleeping again. The judge knew that he should have been keeping the young man awake, but he didn't have the heart to wake him up again. He settled back down into the cushioned chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. He tried to think again of who might have been behind the attacks. He and Mark weren't working on any cases nor did they have any court cases pending. Hardcastle had to consider the point that they had made a new enemy somewhere along the way. Before he could get much further in considering just who that enemy might be, the door opened up again to admit Dr. Saunders.

"Good afternoon, Your Honor. I understand that our young friend is finally awake?"

"He was. He said his head really hurt and he was having another nightmare." Hardcastle stood up and edged closer to Mark's bed as the doctor reached down to gently shake Mark awake.

"Mark, are you with us? Come on now, I know Alexis told you to stay awake and wait for me." Dr. Saunders kept his voice low and pleasant. He was rewarded when Mark opened his eyes slowly and focused on him.

"Milt?" Mark's voice was low and pain-filled.

"I'm here, kiddo. The doc wants to examine you." Hardcastle leaned in close to Mark's head.

"My head hurts." Mark repeated.

"I know that, Mark. Let me look at you and then we will see about getting you something for that headache." The exam was brief but told the doc everything he needed to know. "Well, young man, I think that you'll be just fine. Can you remember anything about what happened?"

Mark closed his eyes and thought hard. "Not a thing. I remember starting out for dinner and then nothing. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Not yet. I want to see if your memory comes back at all. The judge said you have had a couple of nightmares. That could be your memory trying to kick back in. Let's give it a day or so and see if you do remember what happened." Dr. Saunders put his penlight back into his pocket. "Now, I will leave instructions with Alexis for a mild painkiller, but she is still going to wake you up every three hours to check on you. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Yeah, can you get this donkey to go home and get some sleep?" Mark jabbed a thumb in Hardcastle's direction. "He looks as bad as I feel."

Dr. Saunders gave a knowing smirk. "That has already been arranged. I believe that Alexis has already called for a ride for your friend and he has instructions to sleep and eat and not show back up here for at least six hours."

Mark tried and failed to return the smirk. "Good, then I don't have to worry about him."

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Mark, I'll send in that pain medicine right away." With a nod, the doctor was out the door.

"You trying to get rid of me?" Hardcastle tried to sound gruff but couldn't pull it off.

"I'm just gonna sleep so there's no use in you hanging around here. I know something bad happened, I can tell that from looking at you. Call me selfish..." he was interrupted by a yawn, "but I want you rested if I need help. I know how to push the little button if I need something and I know you have someone sitting outside my door." Mark was trying very hard to stay awake and losing the battle with his eyelids.

"Can you ask that nurse to hurry with that aspirin? I can't take this headache any longer." Mark's voice was becoming fuzzy with the pain in his head.

"I'm already here, sweetie." Alexis announced softly as she entered the room. She sat down the small tray she was carrying and began to clean the medication port on the IV bag. "This will make you feel a lot better. Judge, your ride will be here in about 10 minutes." Alexis carefully injected the medicine into Mark's IV. "Now, honey, you just go on to sleep. The doc says I have to wake you up every three hours, but I'll check in on you more than that. We're light on patients today so I can stay a bit longer if need be." The nurse returned the syringe to the tray and set about straightening up Mark's covers and placing the call button in easy reach.

The medicine was already snaking it's way into McCormick and the lines of pain around his eyes were easing out. "Thank you."was all he managed before he lost the fight to stay awake.

Milton traded amused glances with Alexis. "That kid can fall asleep faster than anyone I know." he muttered softly.

"He really means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, he kinda grows on a person." Hardcastle rubbed his hands together and looked around the room. "You said Frank was on his way?"

"Yes, sir. And I promise to keep an ear out for Mark. I'll have Tom listen for him too just in case he starts to have any more nightmares. You didn't tell him what really happened did you?"

Hardcastle shook his head. "No, no. I don't want him to worry about anything other than getting better right now. We should know more before he is released from the hospital and then we can catch these guys. Do me a favor would ya? If he does have another nightmare, write down what he says and then call me? I don't want him to wake up alone and think something has happened again."

"I promise, Your Honor." Alexis used her free hand to guide Hardcastle out of the room, shutting the door as she did.

By the time they reached the nurse's desk, Frank had shown up. He spoke with both Hardcastle and Tom and relayed the information that no new information had been gathered. Mike had failed to find anything at Indian Dunes or in Mark's house that would help to find Mark's attacker. No suspects matching the descriptions given by the judge had been found, though they had found the house where Hardcastle had been held prisoner. The house was a rental cabin that had been closed for repairs. The kidnappers had broken in to use the place and had taken the time to wipe down any surfaces that might have held fingerprints. To all intents and purposes, the investigation was at a dead end.

Cedric Sullivan, assistant to the DA, sat in his office and fumed. On his desk was the file on Mark McCormick, former race car driver, car thief, and now parolee in custody of retired Judge Milton C. Hardcastle. He had received two more phone calls alerting him to the fact that McCormick was hiding something. The phone calls had been vague, stating only that McCormick meant to harm the judge and that he should be sent back to prison immediately for the judge's own protection.

Sullivan fully believed the caller when he refused to identify himself saying that he didn't want to become a target. The caller had stated that he owed Hardcastle his life and that this was the only way he could repay the kindly old man. Sullivan simply had to find a way to prove that McCormick was faking his injury and was, in reality, just biding his time until he was alone with Judge Hardcastle again. Sullivan knew that any ex-con was dangerous. He had listened to hundreds of stories and read tons of newspaper accounts and legal briefs describing the increasing problems of repeat offenders. Oh sure, there might be the odd one or two that didn't return to a life of crime, but that was the major exception.

Perhaps it was time to file his report with the DA and let him decide. Sullivan knew that he wouldn't be getting any cooperation from the police thanks to Mike Delaney blocking his efforts. Due to his stupidity and interference, Sullivan couldn't get close enough to McCormick to even question him. Sullivan decided to wash his hands of the whole affair. After all, he had no great love for Judge Hardcastle after the way the man had treated his nephew in court. The kid was an up and coming public defender and Hardcastle had treated him like an overgrown preschooler. He had tried again and again to get the boy to come to the DA's office, but had been turned down. Sullivan turned to his computer, typed a few more sentences, then hit print and watched as the pages began to spit out of the machine.

Alexis sat at the nurse's desk and checked the time again. The judge had left two hours ago and Mark was sleeping peacefully. She had checked on him twice and had listened to Tom tease her about checking up so often. She wondered if she should peek in once again when screams erupted from the room in question.

"NO!! Judge! Don't!" Alexis burst into the room to see Tom standing by Mark's bed trying to capture one of Mark's flailing hands. She ran to the opposite side of the bed, lowered the rail, and sat down beside the distraught man, gathering him up in her arms like a child and rocking him. "It's okay, Mark. No one will hurt you. You're okay, the Judge is fine. Wake up now." She repeated her litany in a low soothing voice.

Mark sat up, his arms tightening their grip on the woman beside him. "Where's Milt? I need to find him. He shot me, it hurts. Help me." His voice grew fainter and Alexis could feel him loosening his hold on her and relaxing back into sleep. She tucked him back under the covers and stood up, tears freely running down her face. She looked up to see a look of pity on the officer's face.

"Another nightmare, huh?" Tom stated simply. "Why doesn't he wake up? My kids always wake up when they have a nightmare." Tom didn't realize that he was comparing the young man in the bed to his own small children.

"It must be the medication. He can't fight the effects enough to wake up, and the dreams have a really tight hold on him. He must be reliving the shooting." Alexis gazed at the young man fondly. "Who would do such a thing?"

She was spared from answering by another shout from the bed. "NO!" Once again, Mark began to flail around and began calling for Hardcastle. It took both of them to hold him this time before the nightmare eased and Mark settled down.

"I hate to do it, but I'm calling Judge Hardcastle. Maybe having him here will help Mark. I don't think that we are enough." Alexis brushed the unruly hair away from the stitches and checked them before standing up again.

"Hardcastle needs to sleep himself if he is going to be any good to Mark. Can't you give Mark something to make him sleep?" Tom protested as the two left the room. Tom stood by the doorway with the door cracked open so he could see his young charge.

"I don't dare ask. Tell you what I can do. It's nearly time to wake Mark up anyway. I'll ask him about the nightmares and IF he asks, I'll call Judge Hardcastle." Alexis said. "I know Hardcase wanted me to call him if Mark had any trouble."

Tom was insistent. "Mark wants the Judge rested so he can help catch whoever did this to him. We can't have it both ways."

The two of them exchanged glares, daring the other to give in first. Nearly a minute passed before Tom broke the eye contact. "Okay, you win. We don't call Hardcase, but you get to be the one to explain it to him. I'm the innocent one here."

"Tom, you were never innocent." Alexis cut loose a big smile. "But I'll take the blame this time. Just let me go get Mark's chart and we'll see if he can wake up."

It only took a few minutes for Alexis to walk back to the desk, retrieve the chart, check in with the other nurse on duty, and return to Mark's side. She wrote down a few notes then gently shook Mark's shoulder. "Mark, come on Mark. Time to wake up. Look at me." Mark began to toss his head and waved a hand in her direction.

Mark opened one eye and looked at Alexis. "Go away. I'm still asleep, Hardcase."

Alexis laughed. "Wake up, Mark. I'm not Judge Hardcastle. Can you tell me who I am?" Her voice was only half teasing.

She was rewarded by Mark opening both eyes and looking around. "Oh my head. I don't recommend getting shot just to get attention."

"That sounds like very good advice. Can you tell me what happened to make someone shoot you?"

"He was going to, going to...I know him, where do I know him...Damn!" Mark balled up both fists and pressed them against his eyes. "I'm sorry, Alexis, but I don't remember. I should but all I know is that Milt said I got shot."

"The Judge never told you that."

"But that's what happened, right?" Mark screwed up his face in concentration. "We started out for dinner, I wanted him to go to the party with me on Saturday, there was a guy, and I think I got shot." Mark felt of his stitches. "I did, didn't I? Some body shot me?" Questions loomed in the young man's eyes. "Why? What happened? Why can't I remember?"

Mark sat up straight in the bed and looked around frantically, "Where's Hardcastle? Is he okay? What happened to him?"

"He's fine, Mark. Judge Hardcastle is just fine. You sent him home for a nap. You have been sleeping on and off for a few hours now." Alexis gently shoved Mark back down onto the pillow. "You need to rest now."

Mark grasped her hand as his eyes started to close again. "Call him for me? I have to see him. Everything's safe when he's here." The exhausted young man closed his eyes as he spoke and fell asleep before Alexis could respond.

Alexis held Mark's hand for a few more moments before slipping silently out the door. She stopped beside Tom and placed her hand on the seated man's shoulder. "He's out again. Look, it's after 5 now. I'm gonna order you a supper tray and maybe you will have time to eat it before the judge gets here. I'll wait for about 30 minutes before I call him to come back."

Tom shifted around in his chair and looked up at her. "Hardcastle won't like it that you waited."

"Mark woke completely up so I am hoping that he will rest a little easier now. The judge has only been gone about four hours. If he is as smart as I think he is, he's asleep." Alexis glanced at her watch. "I have to go check on my other patients now. I'll be back in a bit." She patted his shoulder and walked off.

Contrary to the nurse's belief, Hardcastle wasn't asleep. He had dutifully tried to relax, he had even gotten into bed, but sleep wouldn't come. Instead memories flowed across his mind, each one a movie of McCormick putting his own safety last to protect the man who had once sent him to prison. None of the friends that Hardcastle had made as a cop or a judge could come close to the loyalty that one stubborn young kid showed to the donkey of a judge. He snorted in self-deprecation, the label of stubborn donkey was one that Mark used to show his affection for the judge. He could never bring himself to insult Mark in a similar way. The judge knew that Mark used his wisecracks and insults to protect himself. The young man's past was filled with wrong turns and abandonment and he had learned to shield himself from most of it.

Hardcastle finally gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. He dressed quickly, intending to go to the hospital and sit with his injured friend. As he passed by the den, he knew that what he should be doing was going over more files to see who might have carried out his kidnaping. By catching the bad guys, Hardcastle could assure that they would not have the chance to hurt McCormick again. It wasn't hard to find a reason for someone to attack him, he had spent a good portion of his life making enemies. The one good thing that he could see was that this time, he didn't have to worry about Mark's past coming into play here.

He had just settled in to work when Sara came in with a plate of sandwiches and coffee. She gave a few mumbled comments about what she would like to do to the men who had hurt Mark before heading back to the kitchen to gather up more food for the officer standing watch outside of the house. She was worried about someone trying to hurt the judge again. Mark was recovering nicely and was well guarded at the hospital, but she knew that whoever had kidnaped her employer might try again.

Cedric Sullivan had just finished the paperwork on an upcoming case when his desk phone rang again. "Sullivan here." The caller was his favorite nephew, Steve Miller, the bright young attorney with the public defender's office. He still wished that the stubborn young man would join him in the DA's office.

"Good afternoon, Uncle Ced. How is your day going?"

"It would be a lot better if I were allowed to do my job. This thing with Hardcastle is just tying my hands. I have been banned from interviewing McCormick while he is in the hospital. He gets out tomorrow and I may try to interview him then." Sullivan sounded like a pouting second grader.

"So you still think that McCormick is involved?" Miller asked.

"It is the only thing that makes sense. Your informant has the right idea by pointing out that only McCormick has total access to the judge. I do not buy into the idea that he is fawning over the same judge who sent him to prison." Sullivan huffed.

"That's what I thought when I spoke to him. I knew that you would be handling this case yourself, that's why I called. You mentioned that McCormick was going home tomorrow?"

"Yes. Like I said, it will be easier to get to him there than the hospital."

"I could try to get to him for you. I was his PD a couple of years ago, that should get me past the guard. What's his room number?" Miller's voice was soft and casual.

Cedric rattled off Mark's room number and added some well chosen words of scorn for Mike Delaney and Judge Washington. "Good luck getting past the staff. If you find out anything, give me a call. We'll meet up next week for lunch or something." After a few more pleasantries, both men hung up.

An hour later Judge Hardcastle put down the papers he was studying and picked up the phone. His call was put through to the nurse's station and seconds later he was connected to Alexis.

"I was going to call you soon, Your Honor. Mark has had a few more nightmares and asked that we call you for him. He does remember being shot but not how or when." Alexis made a note on the chart in front of her.

"I'll be there shortly. If he wakes up again, tell him that I am on my way. Is Tom still on duty?" Hardcastle was grabbing his keys out of his desk as he spoke.

"He's still here. I think he is planning on staying all night if he doesn't like whoever comes to relieve him." Alexis let her smile show over the phone.

"He's a good man. He can go when I get there. I'm planning on staying until Mark comes home in the morning."

"No." Alexis' voice was firm. "You are not going to stay here all night. I'll call Mike and see who gets night duty here. I am going off duty at nine so you can stay till then. That gives you three hours to get here, see him, and then go home for dinner and a good night's sleep."

"We'll see about that. I'm leaving now." Hardcastle hung up without saying goodbye and shot out the door. He waved to the officer on duty as he opened the garage door and climbed into his truck. He noticed that the Coyote was still parked in front of the gatehouse and made a mental note to move it before Mark came home. Shaking his head, he climbed into the truck and drove off.

Officer Tom Kinney turned another page of the newspaper he was reading and settled himself in a new position in the hard chair he occupied. The door to Mark's room was slightly open so that he could keep an ear out for his friend. Mark had been quiet for over an hour now and Tom hoped that the nightmares would cease. Tom had eaten, or tried to eat, the light supper that had been sent up for him. He looked around and saw an orderly loading linens into a cart from the dirty clothes closet just down the hall. Alexis and the other nurse on the floor were both in a patient room down the hall responding to a doctor's call for assistance. Quiet reigned as he turned his attention back to the paper.

The orderly finished loading the cart and pushed it slowly down the hall. His next movements were fast and quiet. A gun appeared in one hand as his left hand grabbed Tom by the throat. "Get up slowly or the hospital will have a whole new paint color on this hallway."


	4. Chapter 5

Tom dropped the paper and raised his arms out to his sides. He rose as the gunman lifted on his throat, then turned and stumbled into Mark's room when he was shoved. The officer caught himself and started to turn around to face his attacker. He never finished the move as the gunman used the gun to hit Tom on the back of the head. Tom went down and a kick to his midsection insured that he stayed down.

Now the gunman turned his attention to Mark. The patient was lying on his side, his chest rising and falling evenly with each breath. Without a sound, he picked up the extra pillow lying on the chair and, with a swift move, he covered Mark's face and pressed hard. Mark began to fight and flailed his fists blindly, moving down to try and remove the obstruction. His attacker grinned evilly and pressed the pillow down harder. As the seconds passed, Mark's struggles became weaker and weaker until finally, they ended and Mark lay motionless in the bed.

Mark's attacker gave the pillow one last firm push before removing it from his victim's face. Slipping the pillowcase off the pillow, he stuffed it into his shirt as he moved toward the door. He noticed that the police officer he had put down was beginning to wake up. After checking that the hallway was empty, he strode down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

Tom groaned as he finally pulled himself up and staggered over to the bed. He reached out a hand to check Mark. "Mark, you okay kid? Mark?" Tom shook Mark's shoulder. When the young man didn't respond, Tom leaned down closer. Realizing that Mark wasn't breathing, Tom sprinted for the door and yanked it open.

"Alexis! Help! He's not breathing!"

Alexis and the doctor she had been assisting were just stepping into the hallway when they heard Tom's yell. Both ran down the hall and hurried to Mark's bedside. The doctor did a quick exam before turning Mark onto his back, bunching up the pillow, and pushing it behind Mark's neck to open his airway. While the doctor gave Mark a few quick breaths, Alexis picked up the call button and pushed the page. "Code Blue Room 313."

Tom opened the door wide as two more nurses pushed a red tool box cart into the room and started handing equipment to the doctor and Alexis. Alexis took the balloon like ambu bag and fitted it over Mark's face before squeezing it rhythmically to force air into his lungs. Another nurse ripped open his pajama top and started attaching wires to his chest while the doctor listened for heart tones.

Tom could only stand by the door as words like "total respiratory arrest", "lidocaine" and "shockable rhythm" were bandied about. He didn't understand the conversation, but he understood that someone had come back to finish the job they had started out at Indian Dunes. The officer was torn between wanting to stay with Mark, or calling for reinforcements and Judge Hardcastle. The decision was taken out of his hands when the judge ran into the room. Tom grabbed him to stop his momentum.

"Mark! Tom, what happened? I heard it on the overhead. What happened to Mark?" Hardcastle's eyes never left his young friend.

"I don't know. Some guy dressed like an orderly pulled a gun, got me in here and knocked me down. When I woke up, Mark was..."

Hardcastle's worry erupted into fury. "How the hell did anyone find out where Mark was!? He is supposed to be in protective custody."

Alexis heard the two men talking and came over to them. "Judge, I need you and Tom to wait outside while we work." Her tone was brisk and businesslike, inviting no discussion. She reached around Tom and opened the door, nearly shoving the judge out while Tom pulled his arm. The door closed behind them and Tom pulled Hardcastle against the wall. He braced himself for the tirade he knew was coming.

It didn't come. Instead Hardcastle slumped against the wall and stared at the closed door. "Call Mike," he finally whispered. "Tell him what happened and get him over here."

Tom dragged the chair away from Mark's door and guided Hardcastle down into it before running off for the nurse's station and the telephone.

Hardcastle's eyes never left the closed door that separated him from Mark. He was unaware of the passage of time, never acknowledged Tom's return, and didn't hear questions that were put to him. The only thing that mattered to him was that door. Hardcastle jumped when the door opened and Alexis stepped out.

She crossed over to him and knelt down by his chair. "He's okay, Milt. Mark is going to be just fine. The doctor will be out to talk to you in a minute, but I wanted you to know that Mark is awake and talking." Alexis put one hand on the judge's knee and touched his face with her other hand. "Mark's awake and asking for you."

"He's okay?" The shaky voice belonged to a much older man. "He's really okay?" Hardcastle looked deep into Alexis' smiling face and felt his heart begin to lighten.

Alexis was spared from answering by the appearance of the doctor. He crossed the hall and stood in front of the small group. "I'm Doctor Mayes. Your son seems to be doing just fine. He was in respiratory arrest, but his heart never stopped and he began breathing soon after we began respiratory support. He has suffered no additional harm. Alexis told me why he was here and I would strongly suggest that he be moved to another floor until he can go home. I'll contact Dr. Saunders for you if you like."

Hardcastle stood up and shook Dr. Mayes hand. "Thank you. I really appreciate your help. You're sure Mark's okay?"

The young doctor nodded. "I'm sure. He is anxious to see you. Go on in and stay with him. I'll make arrangements for him to be moved. Alexis will tell you when everything is arranged." With a final goodbye, the doctor walked down the hall.

Tom spoke up. "I've called Mike. He and Frank are on their way over now. I got a good look at the guy so I will go on back to the station and see if I can find any information on him. I would love to know how he found out where Mark is."

"I'd like to know the answer to that one myself." Hardcastle rubbed his chin, then took a long look at Tom. "You said he hit you?"

"Yeah, but I'm okay."

Alexis saw where the conversation was headed. "I'll look after him, Judge. You go on in to Mark. When Mike and Frank get here, I'll take Tom down to the ER and have him checked over before he leaves."

Milt nodded decisively then headed for Mark's room.

Hardcastle walked into Mark's room slowly. In spite of the doctor's assurances, he was afraid of what he might find. The remaining two nurses were replacing equipment on the crash cart and had moved away from the bed. Mark was sitting up in bed, an oxygen tube running under his nose. He looked pale but otherwise he seemed fine. His face lit up when he saw who his visitor was.

"Come on in, Judge. They tell me this is where all the action is." Mark's voice was soft but held a bit of his old humor.

"You never could do anything halfway." Hardcastle tried to tease back. The joke fell flat. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. The doctor told me what happened. Is Tom okay?"

"Alexis is going to have him looked at. Did you see anything?" The judge sat down on the foot of the bed.

Mark shrugged and fingered the tube under his nose. "I was asleep. Then I woke up with a room full of people and a sore throat." Mark looked levelly at his mentor. "Why try to kill me? I thought this bozo was after you. I got shot protecting you, didn't I?"

"Do you remember anything that happened when you got shot?" Hardcastle spared a glance as the nurses left the room and closed the door behind them.

"I remember leaving the house, we were going to test out the Coyote, then get some supper. After that, I have bits and pieces, you being pushed, a group of guys, then nothing."

"Did you recognize anyone?" Hardcastle's voice was low.

Mark tried to sit up and groaned with the pain in his head. He felt himself being pushed back down on the pillows. "Take it easy kid. You've had a busy day." The judge gave Mark's shoulders a gentle squeeze before letting go.

"I'm sorry, Milt. I just don't have any idea of what happened, or who did it, or who would want to kill me." Mark's eyes were full of fear, fear that his friend had never seen. "You've got to tell me. What is going on? I need to know everything."

The judge considered briefly, then decided that Mark did deserve an explanation. Quietly he told Mark what he knew of the case and about how Mark had ended up in the hospital. "Then they left, taking me with them. One of your friends found you out at Indian Dunes and took you home. Mike told me that much. We still haven't found out who called Sullivan and tried to have you arrested for my supposed murder."

"Who is this Sullivan guy anyway?" Mark asked.. "I think I've heard the name but he isn't a cop is he?"

"Nope, he works for the DA's office. I don't know why he thought he was in charge of this investigation. Something about getting a tip over the phone. Mike and Frank are following up on it." He stopped talking when a knock sounded on the door. Hardcastle put a finger to his lips as he rose and headed for the closed door. Grasping the handle, he called out softly, "Who's there?"

"It's Dr. Saunders. Dr. Mayes called me. May I come in?"

The judge opened the door and let the doctor into the room. "So Mark, you just can't keep out of trouble can you?"

"Hey, I didn't do anything this time. It's your hospital, man. You gotta be more careful about who you hire." Mark's flippant tone didn't fool the doctor, he knew that Mark was hurting and scared.

"I'll tell personnel to be more careful. Right now, let's check you out." He took out his stethoscope and spent a few moments giving Mark a brief but thorough exam. Finishing up, he stowed the 'scope back in his jacket pocket. "Everything looks good, Mark. How's the memory?"

"Still nothing, Doc. Hardcastle told me what happened. I don't remember any of it."

"What about the dreams? Anything there?"

A puzzled frown crossed Mark's face. "What dreams?"

"You've been having some pretty intense nightmares. You don't recall anything from your dreams?" the doctor asked.

Mark shook his head gently. "Sorry, doc. Nothing." Now he tried to change the subject. "So, can I go home now?"

Dr. Saunders grinned and shook his head. "No. I am not in the habit of releasing patients twenty minutes after they come out of respiratory arrest. I will however let you go home in the morning if you are feeling better. How's the headache?"

Mark considered lying, then thought better of it. "If you have a bottle of aspirin, I'd sure take it off your hands."

"Is your headache as strong as before?"

"No. It has let up a bit, but it still hurts." Mark confessed.

"I'd say that things are getting back to normal. A concussion is nothing to play around with, no matter what the guys on TV tell you. A concussion is an injury to the brain tissue and has to heal just like anything else. I'll send in some painkillers and I want your breathing to be evaluated during the night. Like I said, if everything checks out fine, you can go home in the morning." Dr. Saunders shut the chart he was making notes on and let himself out of the room.

Hardcastle started for the door. "I'll be right back, kid. I just wanna ask the doc a question, like how soon you can get back to mowing the yard. Exercise should be good for ya." With a quick smile at the patient, the judge left the room and hurried after the doctor.

"Dr. Saunders. Is there a way that we can move Mark to another room for the night? Maybe something closer to the nurse's desk?"

The doctor smiled at the concern in Hardcastle's voice. "That is already being arranged. Alexis is on the phone with Mike now and the patient in 301 is being discharged home. We will move Mark in about an hour. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other patients to see."

Hardcastle just nodded in thanks as the doctor turned and walked down the hall toward the elevator. Milt ran his hands over his face as he let out a huge sigh. Making a decision, he turned down the hall and went to the nurse's station. He didn't dare be gone long, but he wanted to talk to Frank and see if he had made any progress in finding out who had tipped off Sullivan.

Alexis was just putting down the phone when the judge walked up. "Before you ask, no you can't use the phone. Mike is down in the ER with Tom, and Frank is on his way here. Frank has an appointment with the DA in the morning to talk about Sullivan and his so called investigation. He also wants you to know that Mark is still in protective custody. Mike started the process for Mark to bring Sullivan up on charges of false arrest and battery. I am having the room across the hall cleaned and I will clear the floor before we move Mark. You are to do nothing but go back to Mark's room and keep watch. And yes, I am quoting Mike." The smile on Alexis' face was warm and sad at the same time. "Mark needs you to watch out for him and the rest of us will watch out for both of you."

"What did the doc really say about Mark?" Hardcastle asked.

"Just what he told you. Mark was smothered and suffered respiratory arrest. We got to him in time and got him breathing again before his heart stopped. The doctor doesn't believe that any damage was done to Mark's lungs, but he wants periodic checks to make sure. The biggest danger now is pneumonia, but the chances of that are fairly low. Now go back to Mark. He needs you with him right now. The nightmares he was having sounded pretty intense and he asked for you several times." The nurse laid her hand on the judge's. "You go on now, I'll be in with a wheelchair to get Mark as soon as I can."

Hardcastle wasn't used to being handled in so deft a manner. He was used to being in control of any situation and tried hard not to show his annoyance at Alexis for her mothering attitude. "I'm gonna lock the door. You call before you come in and make sure everyone else does too. And could you let me know what the docs say about Tom. Make sure Mike takes him home. See if he can get Dave Gibbs back here. I don't want any more people in here than we have to."

"I'll see what I can do. Now will you go before Mark gets worried about you?"

"I'm going, I'm going." Hardcastle left and quickly made his way down the hall and let himself back into Mark's room. He pulled up short when he saw the bed was empty.

"Mark?" he called softly.

"Judge?" Mark emerged from the bathroom, trailing the pole that his IV was hanging from.

"What are you doing out of bed?" the judge asked gruffly as he moved to Mark's side to help him back into the bed.

"Sometimes a guy just has to go, Judge." Mark didn't meet his friend's gaze. Both men knew that there was more to that simple phrase, but they decided to let it lie. "What did the doc tell you?"

While the judge guided Mark back into bed and arranged the covers, he repeated his conversations with the doctor and Alexis. "Now we just have to get you better so we can start snooping around and find out who did this."

"I keep feeling that I should know something, Milt. I'm missing something aren't I? What else happened out there? Why can't I remember?" Mark slammed his hand down on the blanket. "Some Tonto I make." he muttered. "My job is to protect your back, I sure screwed up this time didn't I?"

"No, you didn't screw up. Someone knew that they had to get through you to get me. That means, they know more about us than I like. When you get home tomorrow, we'll go through the files and see if something jumps out at us." The judge settled himself in the bedside chair and picked up the TV remote. "All we can do is wait till Frank gets here and see if has any new information for us."

"Sounds good to me." Mark yawned. "I haven't done anything but sleep. Did you ask Alexis about that aspirin? I could really use one right about now. Especially if you find that Duke marathon on channel 16."

"Well, go back to sleep if you need too. I'll wake you up when Frank gets here."

"Can't." Mark's one word answer sent up red flags for the judge.

"Sure you can. Just lie back there and close your eyes. I'll be right here." Hardcastle tried to sound upbeat.

Mark just stared at the ceiling. "I'll just wait for Frank. And besides, if I know you, I'm getting a new room soon anyway. Be a waste of time."

Hardcastle wasn't fooled. "You need to sleep to heal up. I'll stay here, I won't even go into the hallway." He leaned forward in the chair. "Alexis told me about the nightmares. I'll stay right here, nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, that's what Tom thought too. I ended up dead. No thanks, I'll stay awake."

"You're not dead. You're talking to me, ain't ya?"

Mark turned his head and faced the judge directly. "And next time, you might end up dead because I can't do my job."

"Your job is to trim the hedges and mow the lawn."

"My job is to help you and watch your back. Tonto always saves the Lone Ranger. Some Tonto I made."

"Mark, listen to me. You do that job so well that you scared someone. That person knew that he had to go through you to get to me. Tonto was never that tough. No one has ever done that for me, you're the best partner I have ever worked with." Hardcastle's tone changed to one of exasperation. "Now, just lie back down there and get some sleep."

The phone rang then, causing Mark to wince in pain. Milt grabbed it before it could ring a second time. The caller was Alexis, telling him that she was coming down with a wheelchair to move Mark. Hardcastle hung up the phone and told repeated his conversation to Mark. Alexis knocked and then entered with the wheelchair.

"Taxi, anyone?" Alexis parked the chair next to the bed and set the brakes. "Okay, the hallway has been cleared and Dave is waiting in your new room. He will be sitting at the nurse's station so that it will be harder for anyone to sneak up on him. I will bring in the respiratory therapist later and she is on duty all night. Will you be staying all night, Milt?"

"Yes. That way Mark will have a ride home in the morning, and..."

"And Mark doesn't have to worry about you all night and can get some real sleep." Alexis help up her hand to forestall the denials she could see on both men's faces. "Save it, guys. Mike has tried to lie to me far too many times in his young life and I can still catch him every time. You two don't have a chance. Now, Mark get in this chair and let's move."

By seven o'clock that night, Mark was settled into his new room and was sleeping quietly thanks to the dose of pain medication that Alexis had given him. Dave was sitting at the nurse's station across the hall reading the daily paper, and Milt Hardcastle was pretending to watch "Rawhide" on TV. After Mark had fallen asleep, Alexis had told the retired judge about the dreams that Mark had been having. Hardcastle was angry that he hadn't been called earlier, but did understand why. He thought about what Mark had said, that Hardcastle couldn't protect him if he himself were tired or hurt. Such simple statements of truth meant a great deal to the retired judge and he had long ago vowed to protect the young man he had conned into accepting the unusual parole agreement.

Hardcastle realized that he wasn't really interested in the movie and pushed the button on the remote control to turn off the TV. He picked up the stack of newspapers and magazines that Dave had brought earlier and thumbed through them. He found two racing magazines and tossed them on the bed for Mark to read when he woke up. He was reading the evening Times when Mark began to stir. Hoping to keep the nightmares at bay, he leaned over the sleeping man and shook his shoulder gently.

"Wake up, Mark. Come on, kiddo. Open your eyes for me. Everything's fine."

Mark awoke with a start, his breath coming in gasps and sweat beading on his forehead. "He shot me! They took you and I said.."

"It's okay, Mark. Don't think about it. You're safe now, doc says you're gonna be fine."

Mark opened his eyes and looked up into the face of his mentor. "I saw the guy grab you and then someone pointed a gun at me and then I forget again. Why can't I remember?"

Hardcastle sat on the bed next to Mark. "You've had a hard day. That concussion was enough to shake loose a few wires. Doc says it's normal to lose some time after an injury like that. You might remember it later or it may be gone for good. I think that it's in that hard head of yours somewhere, that's where the dreams are coming from."

"So maybe the dreams will stop and I'll either remember everything or it'll all be gone?" Mark didn't seem thrilled with either prospect.

"We'll just have to wait and see. For now, all you have to do is heal up and then we can go after these guys. Mike and Frank are working on it, but WE need to be working on it." Mark grinned at the look of anticipation on the judge's face.

"So what's first on the agenda?" Mark asked. He knew that going back to sleep right now wasn't an option.

"Rest." the judge answered shortly.

"I'm awake now. What say we watch that old movie?" Mark fought back a yawn.

"McCormick, it's eight at night and you haven't had a decent sleep yet."

"I've been sleeping all day." Mark countered.

"Then how come you still look like hell warmed over? Just lay on back there and catch some more sleep." Milt could see that the stress from the nightmare was still taking its toll on his young friend.

"Can't. I just can't right now. So just drop it. Hand me one of those magazines if you don't wanna watch the movie." Mark held out his hand peremptorily, showing the judge that the discussion was over.

Sighing in frustration, Hardcastle reached for the two racing magazines and handed them to McCormick before picking up his newspaper again. He hadn't read for very long before Mark interrupted him.

"Hey Judge! Look at this. Remember that guy I was telling you about, Billy Hankins? We were invited to his party this weekend, well here's a story about him. Seems he is putting together a new team for this season. Wonder if he needs a driver?" Mark continued to read the article. "Hey! He mentions me as someone who would make a good team member!" Mark held out the article for Hardcastle to read.

The judge scanned the article quickly. "Well, he also mentions about six other guys too." he pointed out as he handed the magazine back.

Mark was still grinning, "I know, but it's nice to see that someone remembers me." He turned the page to read the rest of the story.

"Lots of people remember ya, kid." Hardcastle pointed out. "You still race for Tommy on occasion and you had that hot shot team last year."

"Yeah, before you shut them down." Mark gave a lopsided grin to let the judge know that he was just kidding before turning his attention back to the article. "Pictures, huh?" he muttered. Mark was studying the pictures intently stopping at one and fixing his stare on the man shown there. His breathing became rapid and shallow and his face paled. Hardcastle heard the change in his breathing and looked up, hurrying to Mark's side when he saw the change.

"Mark! What's wrong? I'm getting the nurse." He tried to turn for the door, but was stopped by Mark's tight grip on his hand.

"No, Judge. Stay here. I'm all right." Mark tried to slow down his breathing and get his emotions in check. Without letting go of his friend's hand, Mark picked up the magazine to show the picture he had found. "This is him, the guy who shot me."

Hardcastle took the magazine out of Mark's sweaty hand and studied the picture of the man. He was white, a little younger than Mark, and was standing beside a new model Trans Am with the caption "Wolfe's ready to howl!". Hardcastle snorted at the caption but began to scan the article for more information.

"Are you sure this is the guy?" he asked Mark.

"I'm sure. That's Henrick Wolfe. He moved over here from Germany a few years ago and started racing just before I went to prison. I've met him once or twice. He's a good racer, but he has a hell of a temper." Mark sat up slowly in the bed and rubbed his temples.

"He's mentioned in the article as another possibility for your friend's new team. I thought we were just going to a birthday party. Have you talked to him about it?" Milt asked, trying to give Mark time to calm down before he had to face his memories.

"He just called and said he was getting a few old friends together to celebrate his wife's birthday party. Seems owning a racing team is her big present this year. He crashed a few years back and never got back behind the wheel. He has been a partner in a couple of teams and can finally form his own."

"Did he say anything to you about a reason behind the party?" Hardcastle pressed.

"No, he just said he wanted a few old friends together and that he had a big announcement." Mark held up the magazine. "This must have been the announcement."

"Maybe, but that doesn't explain why Wolfe shot you and kidnapped me. Who was the target here and how in the hell did he find you today?"

"You think he was the one who came in here?" Mark asked. "I know you, I've had a bodyguard the whole time and I know you and Mike kept it quiet about where I was. Who else knew?" Mark asked. He was beginning to calm down again with the case to focus on. This was something he knew

Hardcastle clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Well, the first thing is to get hold of Frank and have him do a check on this Wolfe guy. How's your head? Feel up to calling your friend and finding out more about this racing team?"

"I can do that. Maybe getting a few answers will clear up this headache." A faint reflection of Mark's grin crossed his face. He paused for a moment then added, "and maybe a few more answers will stop the dreams."

Hardcastle looked sharply at Mark. "I thought you said you didn't remember having nightmares?"

Mark shrugged. "I don't remember the yelling part, but I remember the part about them grabbing you, then someone stepping out of the back of the group...a gun...noise..." Mark's voice trailed off as he struggled to bring the memory to light. His face went white as sweat beaded out on his forehead. The judge could hear the change in his breathing and feared that Mark was having a panic attack. Pushing the magazines aside, Hardcastle sat on the bed and gripped both of Mark's hands in his.

"What else do you see?" Milt prodded gently.

"You lying on the ground, one of the bad guys drawing a gun on you, no, making a fist?"

Mark shook his head. "It's gone. I just can't remember it clearly. I see bits and pieces but nothing fits."

"That's okay. It's more than you had anyway. Now, why don't you get on the phone to your friend while I go talk to Dave at the nurse's desk and get R and I to do a records search on this Wolfe guy?"

Clapping Mark on the leg, Hardcastle left the room to go and use the phone at the nurse's desk. He wanted to check on Tom as well.

Mark picked up the phone and dialed, holding the phone carefully on his lap. It was quickly answered on the other end. "Billy? This is Mark, how are you? I just called to say that I can't make it on Saturday after all. Naw, nothing like that, I just had a bit of an accident and I'm gonna be laid up for a few days. Yeah, big time. I get out of the hospital in the morning and if I know Hardcase, he won't let me off the estate for a month." After a few more moments of casual conversation, Mark steered the topic around to racing.

"Hey, I just got a copy of Race World and see you're putting together that team you were talking about. Yeah, I saw my name. What! Mike, that would be fantastic! I'll love to and that will fit in with my work with the judge. Who are you looking at to drive? Well, they're both good but the article says you're looking at Wolfe. Really? Wonder where they got that idea? Hey, call me in a few days and we'll get together and go over details. Take care man, and thanks a lot!" Mark hung up the phone, a satisfied grin crossing his face.

Hardcastle came back in a few minutes later, rubbing his hands together. He settled himself back on the chair and leaned back as far as he could. "I talked to Frank. He's gonna run a check on this race driver and get back to me. Mike took Tom home, he's okay by the way, and will come back here. Are you feeling well enough to get outta this dump and go home in the morning?"

Mark wasted no time in answering. "Just hand me my pants." He started to sit up quickly, and was overcome with a wave of dizziness. Closing his eyes, he put one hand on his head and reached out blindly with the other one. Hardcastle was there instantly to grab his free hand and pushed him back gently on the pillow.

"Easy, McCormick. You're gonna mess something else up if you don't move slow." He got his young friend settled again and pushed the button for the nurse. Only seconds passed before a knock sounded on the door and Alexis' voice sounded from the hallway.

"I'm coming in, Judge." Alexis came into the room holding a fresh pitcher of water and a tray of medicine. "I was on my way in anyway. What seems to be the problem?"

"No problem," Mark began only to be interrupted by Hardcastle.

"He tried to get up and got hit with a bad dizzy spell."

"That's not unusual. You know that you have to move slow for a few days. You still have that headache, right?" She waited only briefly for Mark's nod. "Then that alone should tell you that you aren't fully functional yet. Now, how's your breathing? Any tightening in your chest?"

Mark just shook his head, unwilling to bring on another dizzy spell. "How long is this stupid headache gonna last?"

"Another day or two should see you over the worst of it. For right now though, the best thing for you to do is sleep. Doc said you could go home in the morning. Patsy is on her up from respiratory and she will decide if you still need that O2 tube. Dr. Saunders said we can take out your IV and just give you some pills for the pain." She put down the tray and suited actions to words.

She finished up her work and handed Mark two pills. He took them with the cold cup of water that Hardcastle handed him. Alexis checked the oxygen tube then looked up as the door opened. She missed the flinch of fear that ran across Mark's face, but she didn't miss the way Judge Hardcastle stood quickly and moved to the door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized the person who stood framed in the doorway.

"It's okay, Judge. This is Patsy Reynolds, the respiratory therapist I told you about." Alexis moved over to the therapist and stood beside her. "She is a friend of mine and is here to evaluate Mark's breathing." The nurse held out her hand.

"Patsy, this is Judge Hardcastle and your patient Mark McCormick."

"Dr. Saunders told me what happened. I'm just here to evaluate your breathing and lung function. If everything checks out okay, I'll take off the oxygen. You are scheduled to go home in the morning if you don't have any more problems."


	5. Chapter 6

"The only problem I have is being here." Mark grumbled. He did lay quietly enough for Patsy to listen to his chest. She frowned as she folded her stethoscope and rehung it around her neck.

"I want you to have a breathing treatment. I hear a bit of wheezing on one side. I don't think it is anything to worry about, but we don't want to take any chances. I"ll be back in just a few moments with the set-up. We'll do the one treatment then in two hours, I'll be back to listen again. For right now, we'll leave on the oxygen." Patsy was used to grumbling from patients so she wasn't impressed with the hang dog look that Mark presented to her. She simply patted him on the head like a puppy and left.

"Great." Mark leaned back further into the pillow and crossed his arms.

"It's okay, McCormick. Stop acting like a spoiled brat. We need to figure out how that slime ball found out where you were." Hardcastle settled back into his chair. "You're going home in the morning and there's no reason to think that this guy won't come after you again."

"Wait a minute, Kemosabe. Why me? You're the one they grabbed. I recognized the guy, but he was after you, wasn't he?"

"I don't think so. There was no reason to shoot you. You would have been the most logical one to send a ransom demand to. I think they let me escape to help confuse the issue. Getting you out of the way was the real goal." Hardcastle rubbed his chin. "What did you find out from Billy?"

"He is putting together a new team. He wants me to be on the search team for a couple of young drivers that he can train. He says that Wolfe has been really pushing to be his driver, says he even got a pit crew that he can bring with him. Billy has a good crew so he told Wolfe no."

Mark stopped talking as a knock sounded on the door. Seconds later, Patsy came back into the room.

Hardcastle greeted her as he stood up.

"While she's here, I'm gonna go talk to Alexis and find out who is coming on for the night shift. She's gotta go home sometime. I'll also talk to Dave and see if he is on for the whole night or if someone else is spelling him. You've got to get some real sleep. Hopefully, we've got enough answers that you won't be dreaming them up."

Patsy started setting up the breathing gear. "I'll stay with him if you need to go run an errand or two."

"Sounds good. Dave is right across the hall and I'll be back in a few." Hardcastle stepped out as Patsy hooked up the oxygen to Mark's breathing treatment. He was worried that Mark had suffered more injury than the doctor had let on. He wanted to find him and ask a few more questions. He had also realized a small fact. Sullivan. The man had known where Mark was. Had he told someone else? Was he becoming more of a threat than a nuisance? Hardcastle intended to find out.

Hardcastle had just stepped out of the room when Dave spotted him and waved him over to the nurse's desk. "Judge, I've got Mike on the phone. He needs to talk to you without Mark hearing everything."

Milt grabbed the phone away from Dave. "What's up, Mike? Good to hear that. What about him?" Hardcastle listened as Mike outlined the same concerns about Sullivan.

"What say we pay a visit to him? Of course tonight. It's not that late and the more off guard he is, the better. Did you run that check on him that I asked for?" Dave could see the satisfied grin cross the older man's face. "Is that so? Pick me up here. I think Mark is going to just sleep for the rest of the night, he is getting a breathing treatment now. Yeah, a little wheezing from that attack this afternoon. Naw, he's tough. Doc's gonna let him go home in the morning. Sure, I'll be waiting downstairs for ya." Hardcastle hung up the phone and turned to Dave.

"Stay with Mark. Tell him that Mike is picking me up for a bit. I'll be back in a couple of hours." Hardcastle hurried off downstairs, knowing that if he went back in to talk to Mark, the young man would talk him into staying there.

Hardcastle hurried downstairs and waited for Mike to pick him up. He didn't have long to wait until Mike's sedan pulled up to the entrance door. "You made good time. Have you gotten any information yet?"

"I just put in the request, Milt. Have a little patience. We'll be at Sullivan's in a few minutes. I did find out one thing though. Do you remember a young pup public defender named Steve Miller? He started out around the time you retired." Mike asked.

"Miller? Yea, I remember him. As a matter of fact, he was assigned to McCormick the last day I was in court. What about him?"

"Would you believe that he is Sullivan's nephew? And that he has four reprimands in his jacket?"

"Really? Now that's interesting. What's seems to be the boy's problem?"

"He got mixed up with a fellow by the name of Rex Tabor. Now Rex likes to play heavy for the local hotshots, thinks he could make our top ten list if he worked real hard. He also has a hobby." Mike glanced at Hardcastle for effect. "Any you'll never guess what it is."

"Let's see. He wouldn't happen to follow racing would he?"

"Got it in one." Mike said wryly.

"I got to wonder if he knows this Hankins fellow or that driver, Wolfe. That damn party and the racing guys keep popping up. It's got to be connected in here somehow. Have you run a check on either of them?"

"I didn't know about either of them till just now." Mike handed the judge the small pad he kept in his breast pocket. "Write down their names and I will have R and I run them." He took the pad back after his friend had written down the names. Silence reigned for the next few minutes until Mike turned the car into a quiet driveway.

A light was shining in the front window and the porch light on the Spanish looking home was on. "Looks like he's still up. At least we won't wake him." Mike commented.

"Too bad." was Hardcastle's answer as he led the way to the front door and rang the bell.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" a voice called irritably from inside the house as the door was opened. Sullivan's face was a mask of surprise when he saw his visitors. "Judge Hardcastle. This is most irregular. You will simply have to make an appointment with my secretary in the morning to give your statement." He pulled his dressing gown a little closer to his body as Hardcastle forced his way into the hall.

"Actually, I'm here to get your statement. Somebody tried, again, to kill McCormick. Now I know that Mike and Frank didn't tell anyone where he was, and I sure as hell didn't, so that leaves you. Just who did you tell?" Hardcastle loomed over the tall man, forcing him backwards into the sitting room and making him sit in the first available chair.

"Now see here. I will not be bullied..." Sullivan began.

"Who did you tell!" Hardcastle roared. He reached down with his big fists and pulled Sullivan up by his lapels. His face was red and there was no mistaking his anger. Mike decided it was time to step in.

"I'd tell him if I were you. I'd say Judge Hardcastle here is operating in an altered mental status due to his recent kidnapping ordeal and the injury to his young friend. That plus the fact that he is a judge pretty much guarantees that he can walk away from whatever happens here. Maybe I should just wait in the car." Mike turned as if to leave.

Sullivan reached out. "No! This is police brutality! You can't just leave him here."

"Tell him what he wants to know, and we'll leave" was the wry answer.

Sullivan forcefully tore Hardcastle's fists off his lapels and walked around to sit on the couch. The visitors could see him making a supreme effort to collect his thoughts. "Judge Hardcastle, I simply cannot see why you insist on believing that McCormick is innocent. The man is an convicted felon and is very dangerous. Perhaps the lieutenant has a point. It might do you some good to seek professional help. Due to your advanced age, you obviously have a few issues that I feel this McCormick is taking advantage of." Sullivan reached for a card file on the coffee table. "I have a card here for a good friend of mine. She works with people with stress disorders and the elderly. I'm sure she could help you." He pulled one card out of the file and handed it up to Hardcastle who had moved to stand towering above him.

"I don't need a shrink! I need to know who you talked to about Mark!" The judge's tone shook the windows in their frames.

"I am not about to speak to you about a suspect in an ongoing investigation." Sullivan huffed.

Just as Mike was about to step in and intervene, Hardcastle smiled sweetly. "I understand, Mr. Sullivan. You are just doing your job to the best of your ability. I'll tell you what, let's call your boss and tell him what a good job you are doing, shall we?" Instead of waiting for an answer, Hardcastle strode over to the corner table and picked up the phone.

Still smiling like a satisfied cat, Hardcastle dialed the phone and held the receiver to his ear while swinging the phone from his other hand. "Hello, Charles? Milt Hardcastle. How's the vacation going? Catch anything yet? Good to hear it. You'll have to come out to the house next week and bring the pictures. I'll light the grill and share some of that trout with you. Look, I know it's late, but I just thought you needed to know what a job that new assistant to the DA's office is doing. Yeah, that's him." He listened for a few moments. "Well, have you heard about the trouble Mark and I got into? Yeah, I'm fine and Mark will be. Mike has a few leads and so does Sullivan." Still grinning, Hardcastle outlined the case from Sullivan's point of view. "Now for the official version..." he quickly outlined the case and his suspicions.

"Naw, Mike has some good leads. Someone has tried twice to kill Mark. Some guy found out where he was in the hospital and got to him. Nope, Sullivan was the only other one who knew where Mark was and he isn't telling me who he told. I have a few ideas about who might be behind it and McCormick was able to ID his attacker. I just have to tie him to a leak in the department. Sure, he's right here. In fact, Mike and I are at his house right now." He listened for a moment then chuckled heartily. He held out the phone to his host.

"District Attorney Charles Fisher would like to talk to you now." Hardcastle handed a shocked Sullivan the phone and stood beside him, arms folded across his chest and rocking back and forth on his heels. Even Mike could hear the shouting from the phone.

Several long minutes later, a very red faced Sullivan muttered a final "Yes, sir" and hung up the phone. He took a deep breath, pulled himself up to his fullest height, and faced Hardcastle.

"I must apologize Your Honor for my actions and my incorrect assumptions regarding this case. I will get you my files first thing in the morning. Would you like to pick them up or would it be easier for me to send them to you?"

"Just send them to my office." Mike directed.

Sullivan faced the detective. "Of course. I have been instructed to give you any and all information that you require. Shall we sit down and be comfortable?"

Hardcastle followed his host back to the couch and sat down at one end of it. He had heard the words "You're fired!" quite clearly from his position beside Sullivan and let the feeling of glee brighten his face.

Mike got out his notebook and began asking the hard questions. "Who told you about Hardcastle being murdered?"

"I received a phone call from my nephew, Steve Miller. He said that a man he has represented in the past came to him with the details of a plan that McCormick put together to murder Hardcastle and then skip the country."

"Did he say why?"

"No, just that McCormick was tired of living in Hardcastle's shadow and wanted to get back into his old life."

"Have you ever heard of a racer named Henrick Wolfe or a local guy called Rex Tabor?" Mike asked.

"I don't know anything about racing, but I have heard of Tabor. He is under investigation for bribery and conspiracy. There are rumors of course that he also hires out as a hit man." Sullivan's face was pale and sweaty.

"Did you tell anyone where Mark is?" Hardcastle spit out, unable to contain himself any longer.

Sullivan looked him in the eye. "Only my nephew. He was the PD assigned to McCormick once, he felt that possibly he could help him again. He offered to get in touch with him for me since I was prevented from questioning him directly."

Mike had heard enough. "Mr. Sullivan, it is my duty to inform you that I have enough information to arrest you on charges of violating a court order, leading to the attack on a protected witness. Now, you can help us or you can go to jail. Which will it be?" Mike couldn't keep the satisfied tone out of his voice.

Sullivan's whispered, "I'll help any way I can" was barely loud enough to be heard by either man.

Back at the hospital, Dave turned another page of the newspaper he was reading. He had been in to see Mark and let him know that Mike had taken Hardcastle out for supper and that the two of them would be back later. Mark had just agreed that it was a good idea before giving in to the pain pills he had taken and falling asleep. Dave devoutly hoped that Mark would have a quiet night. He had just finished up the business page when the phone at the nurse's desk rang. He watched as the young nurse's aide answered it.

"It's for you, Officer." she held out the phone to Dave.

"Gibbs here. Yes sir, he's sleeping now. No, the lieutenant and the judge went to talk to Sullivan about an hour and a half ago. Just said that they'd be back later." Dave nodded his head. "Mark should be going home in the morning. There's a question about his breathing, but he is getting special treatment for that now. I don't mind. Okay. Can you get Tom for this too?"

Dave pulled a pad of paper closer to him and began to scribble notes. "Got it. I'll leave here as soon as my relief gets here and go check out the house. Does Miss Sarah know that you have had the place under surveillance? Lots of cookies I'll bet." He chuckled. "Good night, sir." He hung up the phone and turned to see Alexis standing beside him.

"That was Frank. He wants me to go home and get some sleep because I am going to be taking over the surveillance team at Hardcastle's place when Mark goes home tomorrow. He is sending over a replacement for me in about an hour."

"That's good. You need to sleep. I'm getting off in about an hour but I'll be back at eight. I just got called to act as a replacement for one of the day nurses. Seems her little girl broke her arm trying to ride her brother's motorcycle." Alexis yawned widely. "I don't mind telling ya, I'm getting too old to pull these double shifts." Smiling tiredly, she picked up a section of the paper and scanned it while Dave turned his attention to the sports page. They read in quiet companionship for several minutes.

"Help me!"

Mark's scream rent the air, sending both of them hurtling toward's Mark's room.

Dave beat Alexis to Mark's door and burst inside. The young patient was sitting up in the bed with one hand raised defensively. His eyes were open and staring at something only he could see. Alexis rushed to his side and tried to talk to him.

"Mark? Mark? Can you hear me? Wake up, Mark."

Mark didn't appear to hear her. He continued to talk to the air. "Help me! Hardcastle! Don't hurt him. Leave him alone!" He threw up his arms to protect his head, then fell backwards onto the pillow. He lay there, panting, staring at the ceiling. He seemed to take no notice of the nurse or the officer who had rushed into his room. Alexis approached the bed gently.

"Mark, are you awake?"

"I am now. I remember all of it, Alex. Wolfe and his friends forced us to stop the car. When we climbed out, they surrounded us. Wolfe had the gun. He said he wanted Hardcastle and that all I had to do was stay still. Milt walked over to him, but then he raised the gun like he was going to hit him. I yelled and one of the other guys pushed me down on the sand. Then Wolfe raised the gun and shot me. It hurt so bad. I watched them put Milt in a car and leave. After that, I must have passed out. I remember being cold. A friend of mine found me and took me home in the Coyote." He sat up gingerly and wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked slightly.

Dave had stayed in the background. When Mark had begun talking, he had pulled out his notebook and wrote down everything that Mark had said. As far as he could tell, his story matched Hardcastle's exactly.

Alexis sat on the bed and stroked Mark's back. "What happened next?"

"I tried to patch myself up. There was a lot of blood and I didn't want to scare Sarah. I sat down for a bit and must have gone to sleep then. It's a blank after that until I woke up here and found Hardcase sitting beside me." Mark wiped at the small tears that trickled down his face. He looked over to Dave who was still writing. "It was Henrick Wolfe, man. He's a race car driver. He was the leader of the party and the one who shot me."

"We'll get him, Mark." Dave assured him. He closed his notebook. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I'll go call the station and see if I can find Judge Hardcastle and Mike. I'll call Frank too, and give him my report." Nodding to the others, Dave left the room to make his calls.

"How long, Alexis? How long till I can sleep without seeing Wolfe try to kill me?"

"I don't know, Mark. I suspect that since you remember it now, your subconscious will stop trying so hard and you will be able to get some sleep." She stood up and eased Mark back down on the pillow. "How's the pain?"

"I'll live. Guess I'll just watch a little tv till the judge gets back." Mark knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep for a while.

Alexis crossed her arms and stared at him. "You need to sleep. I can't give you anything more. But that headache isn't going to go away without a good solid few days of rest. You haven't slept more than two or three hours at a time in the two days you've been here. You may think you're fooling Doc Saunders, but trust me, you aren't. He's already made a note on your chart to have you talk to a professional before you go home tomorrow."

"I kinda figured that." Mark turned on his side and looked at her. "I'm just so tired and hurting and...and scared. The look in Wolfe's eyes. I've heard the phrase, "cold blooded killer" but I've never met anyone who looked like that. But his eyes, there was nothing there. It was like he was dead."

Alexis took Mark's hand again. "I can't even begin to pretend how you feel. I can understand it however. That man meant to kill you. He almost succeeded. But he failed. Now you have to come to grips with it. If you don't, he still wins. Why don't you talk to the judge about it? It'll make you feel better."

Mark shook his head slowly. "No. I can't talk to him about it. I won't put him through that. That man has helped me more than he will ever know." Mark rolled over to his back and stared at the ceiling. "When he first got me to go along with this chase the bad guy routine, I laughed at him and gave it six months before he got tired of it and me. It's been three years now. I enjoy the challenge and so does the judge. I can see that he is starting to slow down a bit. It won't be long before he has to retire for real. I have the responsibility to make sure that the rest of his life is as safe as I can." He paused, then continued. "Milt is the only family I've had since my Mom died when I was 12. And I've put him through more hell than I ever gave Mom."

He turned his head to look at the silent nurse. "I owe that man more than my life. He doesn't need to spend his time worrying about me. I won't be a burden to him."

"I have a feeling that you could never be a burden to him, Mark." Alexis answered. "He cares about you and is really worried about you. Don't you owe it to him to be truthful about how you feel right now? You've been injured in more ways than one. Full recovery is going to take time and a good friend or a family, is only going to help."

"No." Mark stated flatly. "I'll get through this on my own." Mark rolled over and presented his back to the nurse. Alex took the hint and left the room, giving a quiet promise to be close if she was needed again.

Dave joined Alexis at the nurse's desk and stood quietly. He knew what he wanted and needed to say to Mark, but had no idea of how to say it. He agreed with Mark's assessment that Hardcastle was beginning to slow down, but he didn't agree with Mark's idea that he had to protect the judge by not sharing his fear with his mentor.

"What do we do now?" the officer asked the nurse.

"I don't know. He needs to talk to Milt. Until this guy is caught, the both of them are in danger and Mark is in no shape to look after himself, much less Hardcastle. I'm going to call Mike. Maybe he has some ideas." Alexis picked up the phone, but hesitated to dial when Dave put his hand over hers.

"I'm going to have a talk with Judge Hardcastle. He has a right to know how Mark is feeling."

"Mark won't like that. Injured or not, he has a right to his privacy." Alexis pointed out.

"Even when that pride of his just may get him killed?" Dave asked indigently.

"Not talking about his fear won't kill him." Alexis smiled. "He will tell the judge about what he remembered and I know he will help to put the man behind bars. What I am worried about is afterwards. We can't tell him how to handle what happens next. We don't have the right to tell the judge that Mark is scared." Alexis put down the phone. "Besides, if I know Mike, he will talk with Mark himself and see to it that the judge knows what is going on. From what I have heard, Mark has been alone for a long time. He can't see that others care about him." A sad smile crossed her handsome face. "He and the judge have been together for a long time too, haven't they?"

Dave nodded silently, then added. "About three years now. From scuttlebutt around the station, those two make up quite the team. I have heard some really amazing stories about the trouble those two go looking for."

Then they have to trust each other, right?"

"Sure. Why?" Dave was puzzled.

"If they are as close as you say, I have a feeling that the judge will pick up on what is wrong with Mark and make him work it out. Mike has told me about Hardcastle's background as a judge. Sounds to me like Milt learned how to listen to people and find the truth a long time ago." She picked up the phone again. "I'm going to call and see if Frank has heard from Mike and Milt yet. They should be back soon."

Before she could dial however, he heard her nephew's laughter echoing down the hall.

"I wish I could have taken a picture of that! The guys down at the station will probably give you an award for getting rid of that pest." Mike and Hardcastle came into view, both chuckling.

"I have to admit, it was fun. It would have been more fun slugging him, but Mark would have yanked my chain about it for weeks. He's always on me to ease up on people. I do believe he thinks I'm getting old or something." The two men stopped at the desk and slouched against it.

"How's Mark doing, Alex?" Mike asked.

"That's Aunt Alex to you, young man." the nurse answered tartly. "You aren't too old for me to take a piece outta your hide for being rude."

Dave and Hardcastle covered their grins as Mike poured sugar into his smile. "And you aren't too old for me tell everyone about that last Halloween party with the kids." His grin matched his friends as Alexis blushed and shook her head.

"How is Mark doing?" Hardcastle asked.

"He's doing better, Your Honor. He woke up and remembered everything. He's awake now, just waiting for you to get back." Alexis looked at the small group and offered her arm to Hardcastle. "I'll take you to him. This group is a bit too rowdy for him right now."

"I'll catch up, Milt. I want to talk to Dave for a bit. Bart Dawson will be here soon to take over so Dave can get some shut-eye. We are arranging for a 24 hour guard at your place for the next few days. Mark isn't gonna be in any shape to chase bad guys for a while and I know he won't let you while he's down." Mike held up a hand to forestall Hardcastle's objection. "Too late. It's a done deal. I posted a unit there yesterday. You didn't think that I would let Miss Sarah stay there by herself did you?"

"Besides, she refused to leave." Dave put in.

Hardcastle just gave a low "hawmp" of disagreement, but didn't say anything. He knew how to pick his fights and this wasn't one of them. He took Alexis' arm and pointedly turned toward's Mark's room. Mike and Dave turned their backs to the door, giving Hardcastle some privacy to ask about his friend.

Hardcastle wasted no time opening the door and going in. A wide smile graced his face when he spied Mark sitting up in the bed watching TV. He quickly toned it down and asked gruffly, "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

Mark pasted a smile on his face and tried to joke. "Who can sleep in a hospital? Every time you get to sleep, someone wakes you up to take your temperature or give you a sleeping pill. I figured it was just easier to stay awake and wait for you."

"He refuses to go back to sleep, Your Honor." Alexis folded her arms and aimed a stern look in her patient's direction. "I told you, I can't give you any more pain meds, but you have got to rest." She turned to Hardcastle. "He won't tell you so I will, given that you hold his health proxy. He still has a headache, he has to wear the oxygen till morning, and he hasn't had a solid meal yet. The doctor said that IF he rests, and eats, and gets cleared by respiratory, he can go home in the morning."

Hardcastle clapped his hands together. "Sounds easy enough. McCormick, you just lay down and close your eyes. Morning tends to come faster when you sleep through the night. Then we can get out of here and catch this Wolfe fellow. I have an idea of how to get to him. You game?"

Some of the old fire returned to Mark's eyes. "You bet. Why don't you tell me your plan now? I've had plenty of sleep today. I'm not really tired right now."

The judge took a good long look at the younger man, then reached out and snagged the remote control and turned off the tv. "You might think you're fooling Alex, but you ain't fooling me. You haven't slept worth a damn and you aren't in any shape to go busting after Wolfe and his friends. Now you just lay down there and go to sleep." Hardcastle was using his best no-arguing voice. Neither man noticed the smiling nurse edging out the door.

"I'm telling you, Judge. I'm not tired." Mark argued.

"McCormick, it's nearly midnight. Of course you're tired! Why don't you want to go to sleep?" The truth dawned on the jurist as he took a good look at his young friend. Neither man noticed the satisfied look on the nurse's face as she slipped out of the room. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?" Hardcastle's voice lowered as a look of understanding came into his eyes.

"They're just dreams. Everyone dreams. Now, just tell me how we're gonna get Wolfe." Mark tried to avoid the subject.

Hardcastle wasn't letting go so easily. "This son-of-a-bitch tried to kill you. I understand all about nightmares. They don't go away so easily." He rubbed his face with both hands as he turned to look out the window into the darkness. "I know all about nightmares, McCormick. I had a few myself after Tommy left for the war. I used to wake up every night, drenched in sweat. I tried not to sleep, found every late night commercial on tv, even mowed the lawn at three in the morning, but nothing helped. Nancy knew. She knew what was bothering me and she kept after me to tell her about my dreams. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell her how many times I saw my son die." He hunched his shoulders and wrapped his arms around himself. "Then he did die."

Mark sat up in the bed and wrapped his arms around his knees, careful of the plastic tubing on his face. "What did you do?" he asked gently.

"Nancy did it." Hardcastle admitted. "She made me talk to her. She was a rock. Then when she got so sick...she cried on my shoulder late at night because the pain was so bad. My nightmares where nothing compared to the living hell her life became. Through it all though, she never let me get away with hiding anything. Then after she died..." he stopped talking and sighed deeply.

"Your nightmares came back, didn't they?" Mark asked softly.

"Yeah, they did." Hardcastle admitted.

"What did you do?"

"Spent a lot of time looking at the ceiling. But, I had friends who never let me get away with locking myself away. They kept at me to go places, do things, live. Even got me to talk to a shrink a time or two." Hardcastle turned to face Mark. "I learned that nightmares are like anything else, you have to face them and do your job anyway. They aren't real, they can't hurt you, but they will kick your ass if you let them win."

"I never had that, friends who cared that much I mean." Mark admitted. "I've been on my own for so long, I just kinda got used to the nightmares and ignoring them. But now..."

"Now you have a real threat to deal with. Something you can grab onto and shake it's teeth out. This is a nightmare you can deal with." Hardcastle clapped his hands. "But to do that, you have to get some sleep. It's too late for me to go home, so I'll just sack out in the chair for the night. Want me to get the light?"

Mark nodded, thankful for the company. In the three years he had been with Hardcastle, he still hadn't let himself get used to being protected or cared for. A lifetime of loneliness was hard to forget, but he resolved to try. Mark gently snuggled down into the covers and let go of the fatigue and pain as he slipped into a peaceful slumber.

#

Hardcastle watched the lines on Mark's face begin to lessen as his friend fell asleep. He didn't even try to deny the feelings of parental concern and caring that rose to the surface. In the years following the deaths of his family, Milt Hardcastle had built a wall around himself that very few people could scale. Mark had not only scaled that wall, but had built a doorway through it and into Milt's very being. Long minutes passed as Hardcastle watched over his best friend and crafted plans to catch the men responsible for hurting the both of them.

Around one in the morning, Alexis poked her head in the door. Hardcastle was asleep in the chair and Mark was snoring softly. She smiled gently and backed out. A few steps brought her back to the nurse's desk and the small young woman standing there. "Okay, Josie. They are both asleep. I'm going home for a bit of sleep. I'll be back at eight."

Josie looked her in concern. "You need more than six hours of sleep."

"Not tonight. Like I said, this is a special case. I introduced you to Mike and to Bart. Bart will be here all night. Remember, no one but you goes into that room without Mike or Bart." Alexis reached under the counter for her purse just a uniformed officer came up to the desk holding a cup of coffee. "Hi, Bart." Alexis greeted the older white haired officer.

"Morning, Miss Alex. You going home now?"

"Sure am. I'll be back at eight." She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to him. "Here's my number and Mike's house number. Call if you need either one of us. Milt is asleep so I couldn't tell him that you were here."

Bart laughed. "That's alright. If he knew I was here, he'd just try to challenge me to a basketball game. He lost 20 to me the last time we played, in spite of cheating. I don't know how that kid manages not to break something when they play." He laughed at Josie's blank look.

"The Honorable Judge Milton C. Hardcastle plays dirty when he plays one on one. You should see him and McCormick go after it. I watched them at the park one day. I wouldn't have bet a plug nickel on either one of them walking away from that game."

As Alexis left, she could hear Bart beginning one of his famous long-winded speeches. Mike had introduced her to the officer nearly ten years earlier at a station softball game. Bart was a long-time officer and was one of the organizers of the annual charity event. He gave the impression of being just above an elderly night watchman, but was deadly with any type of weapon and held a third degree black belt in karate. She didn't have any doubts as to his ability to protect the two sleeping men, but she did wonder about how little Josie was going to handle Bart for the remainder of the night.

Promptly at eight o'clock the next morning, Alex poked her head into Mark's room and smiled widely. Both of her patients were still asleep. She backed out and placed the breakfast tray she was holding back onto the food cart. She had gotten to work just a few moments late and had been informed that Mark was her only patient. Her long hours had not gone unnoticed by the charge nurse who had called in a favor and gotten another nurse on the floor.

When she had gotten to work, Alexis had found Bart and Jessie still talking at the nurse's desk. The look on Jessie's face had told her that Bart had met his match in the tall stories department. Bart had tipped his non-existent hat to both women and gone to the cafeteria for his own breakfast after checking in with Frank.

"So how did the night go?" Alexis asked.

"Very quiet." Jessie replied with a smile. "I think that Mark only woke up a couple of times but no screams. I heard him and the judge talking so I think that he is working things out. The doctor was up this morning but decided to let Mark sleep. He said that he would be back at nine or so. Respiratory should be here any minute, so we will have to wake him up for that."

"I don't think he will mind. If he clears with them, he can go home. Mark is really ready to leave this place and find the guy responsible for putting him here." Alexis answered as she pulled the duty sheet over to look at it. Jessie signed off on the chart she was working on, collected her purse, and left, waving a cheery goodnight to Alexis as she did.

Twenty minutes later, a man wearing a housekeeping name badge arrived. He started to open Mark's door but was stopped by Alexis. "I'm sorry, you can't go in there right now. Access to this room is restricted."

The man drew himself up to his full height. "I'm sorry. I am scheduled to clean this room now." He tried to reach around Alexis for the door, but she stepped in his way again.

"I don't know you. Access to this room is restricted. You will have to wait here until I verify your badge." Alexis could see Bart returning down the hall.

"I don't have time for this. Move out of the way now!" The man shoved Alexis out of the way as he pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants, never seeing Bart pull his gun.

"Police! Stop right there!" Bart yelled as he leveled his gun on the man.

Instead of stopping, the man grabbed Alexis, threw her to the ground, and raced down the hallway. Bart gave chase, stopping only briefly to check that the nurse was unhurt. "Call for backup!" he yelled as he rounded the corner after the suspect.

Alexis got up slowly. As she raised her hand to find the doorframe, Hardcastle came out of the room and helped her up as he scanned the hallway. "What the hell happened out here?"

Quickly, Alexis told him what happened. "Bart ran after him. He wanted me to call for help. Frank should be here any minute now or should I call the station?"

"Call Mike at the station. Then you plant yourself in front of this door and don't move. No body gets in here until Frank shows up. Mark is awake, but don't let him out of bed yet. He is still having problems being dizzy and I don't want him to fall." With that piece of advice, Hardcastle pulled a gun from his pocket and ran down the hall. Alexis made her way over to the nurse's station and dialed a number.

Mike picked up on the first ring. Without any pleasantries, Alexis filled her nephew in and begged him to hurry to the hospital.

"I'll be there in five minutes. Go lock yourself in the room with McCormick and don't open that door until the Judge or I knock on it." Mike instructed his aunt. She could hear him moving around his office then the phone slammed down. She hung up the phone on her end and rushed to Mark's room. She entered carefully, calling out to Mark as she entered.

"It's me, Mark." She poked her head in and saw an empty bed. As she entered, Mark came out of the bathroom.

"You okay?" he asked her.

Alexis moved to his side. She had intended to help the young man back into bed, but found herself clinging to him for support. "I'm okay. I'm just a little too old for this kind of fun." Her voice was shaky and her hands grasped the front of Mark's hospital gown. She didn't resist as he led the way to the bed and sat her down, easing himself down beside her.

The two sat silently for several moments. Mark had tucked Alex into his side and stroked her head and rocked her gently. He didn't say anything, but gave all the comfort he could, returning the favors she had shown him earlier in the week. Moments later, Hardcastle re-entered the room and sank heavily onto the visitor's chair.

"He got away." he stated without preamble. "Did either of you get a good look at him?"

"I did. I've never seen him before. I don't know how he found out where Mark is." Alex said nervously.

"I don't know how he found out where to come, but I do know how he got an ID." came a new voice. Everyone looked up as Frank entered the room with Tom on his heels. Satisfied that he had everyone's attention, he continued. "One of the staff on the next floor down found a male housekeeper tied up in the linen closet. He said a man pulled a gun on him, made him turn around, then the lights went out."

"Great! How about we just put up a giant billboard pointing to my room and invite every lunatic in town to lunch?" Mark sounded bitter and tired. Before anyone could comment, Mike entered the silent room.

"Did you get him?" Hardcastle asked.

"Nope, but I know who was behind it." was Mike's simple answer.


	6. Chapter 7

"Let me guess, Wolfe?" Hardcastle guessed.

"Nope. How about Steve Miller?" Mike enjoyed the looks of astonishment on the faces around the room.

Frank was the first to speak up. "You're kidding? Why would he try to kill Mark? So far we only have a few pieces of circumstantial evidence to tie him to this. Something big happened while we weren't looking." He looked at Mike for more explanations.

"It did." Mike seated himself on the bed and wrapped an arm around his aunt. Mark loosened his grip on the nurse and felt her sag against her nephew. "After I dropped off Milt here, I called the office and found out that our little chat with Sullivan is already producing results. One of our patrols had just picked up Wolfe and he was bragging about how the system was gonna save his bacon. Then he started asking for Miller as his lawyer." Mike paused to take a breath. "Just as I was parking the car, I got a call saying that the watch I put on Miller's house last night was tailing him this way."

"Wait a minute. I didn't know you put a watch on Miller." Hardcastle tried to sound indignant.

"I knew, Milt. We also put a watch on Wolfe, Tabor, and Sullivan." Frank spoke up.

"Anyway, just as I got off the radio, I saw a man race out of an emergency exit door, jump into a car and drive off. Miller was driving. Frank came out of the same door just a few seconds later. I put out an APB on Miller before I came up here." Mike hugged his aunt tightly to him as he finished his recital.

"Now we wait for Miller to be picked up. Do we have enough evidence to tie Tabor into this as well?" Hardcastle asked.

"No. All we can do right now is charge both Wolfe and Miller for attempted murder and kidnapping. We're still trying to tie up the loose ends."

Now Alexis spoke up. "But why are they trying to kill Mark? He doesn't race anymore, he can't be a threat to them."

Now Hardcastle spoke up. "Mark was asked to help pick drivers for a new racing team. Wolfe wanted the job but got turned down."

Mark piped up. "But that doesn't add up to murder. All Wolfe had to do is talk to Billy and find out that I wasn't going to drive. Why all the trouble?" Mark took a deep breath and tried to add up all the pieces. He spared a glance at the door as Bart edged back in.

"All secure out front. Dave is on his way in for the day shift." Bart leaned against the door frame as Mark took up the narrative again.

"Bill Hankins is an old racing buddy of mine. He is the one putting together the team for his wife's birthday. The racing mags had predicted that he would get Wolfe to drive for him. When Wolfe asked him about it, Billy turned him down. Seems that Wolfe has a reputation for less than sportman's like conduct and Bill doesn't want any part of that. I was asked to be on the team as an advisor. That still doesn't explain why Wolfe tried to kill me." Mark added his store of information to the meager pot.

"So we still have a lot of questions." Mike stood, followed quickly by Frank. "Okay, Frank and I are going home for a nap. We've been up all night working on this thing. This afternoon we will try to get more answers out of our race car driver. Hopefully, someone will have picked up Miller and we can start putting the pieces together. I'll have R and I dig deeper on their background check on Wolfe. Maybe they can pull something together to explain this."

"What do you want me to do?" Hardcastle asked.

"Nothing. Just stay here with Mark. I'll need both of you to come down to the station as soon as Mark is able to make some positive ID's on Wolfe." He put up a hand to forestall the protest he saw coming. "Right now Milt, protecting Mark has to come first. He's the only one that can put all of this together, even if he doesn't know how. This makes three attempts on his life, there will not be a fourth." Frank sounded more intimidating than any of his friends had ever heard him.

Hardcastle knew that now was not the time to argue. He stood, rubbing his hands together. "Sounds like a plan. Mike, you take Alex home and put her to bed. She's had a bad scare. Mark is going back to bed and I am going to sit with him."

Mark spoke up now. "No. I'm not staying here another minute. I won't have anyone else in this place endangered because of me. I can sleep at home. Find my pants Hardcase." Mark looked at the faces surrounding him. "Don't say it. Don't even think it. I'm the one everyone is after, so I get to say what I am doing. I'm going home." Mark stood up and faced his audience.

Alexis was the first to speak. "Mark, I understand how you feel, but you aren't quite up to speed yet. Let me get the doctor up here to look at you first." Now she moved to his side and spoke quietly to him. "You are still hurting and you are having more problems with dizziness, aren't you?" She didn't need an answer. "I have an idea."

"Mike, how about if I go with Mark? He can rest at home and still have a nurse around. That way Milt can get some rest as well. You did say that there was a patrol car stationed at his house for Sarah, didn't you?" She could see the uncertainty in her nephew's eyes so she played her trump card. "Besides, I really don't want to be alone in my apartment right now. The company would do me good." She was saved from saying anything else when she heard a small strangled sound from beside her.

"Mark!" she exclaimed as she grabbed on to him tighter and eased him down on the bed. His face was sheet white and sweat had popped out on his forehead. Hardcastle was by his side in an instant, helping to lower his young friend to the bed and pulling up the covers. The officers in the room could only watch as she began a quick exam. Mark seemed to be on the verge of unconsciousness and could only manage a few slow head shakes to whatever questions Alex was asking him. She turned to the men in the room.

"I need you to all leave now. Milt, go out to the nurse's station and have them call Dr. Saunders at home." She didn't look up from her patient as she heard the door open and shut.

In the hallway, Milt put in the request and then stood with his friends as he kept his gaze focused on Mark's door.

"What happened? I thought Mark was doing fine." Bart spoke up.

"Stubborn kid. He hasn't been sleeping well in spite of the drugs and he has been having a lot of trouble with dizziness in the last couple of hours. It was getting worse. The doctor told me privately that he was worried about the possibility of a blood clot forming." Hardcastle's pale face told the men the rest of the story. Mark wasn't out of the woods health wise and the nightmares and the attempts on his life were making a bad situation worse.

Long minutes passed before Alexis came out of the room. She took Hardcastle by the hand and led him to the chair in front of Mark's room. Kneeling down in front of him she said gently, "He's okay for now, Milt. Just over stressed. Hang on to that, he's okay." She looked at the men around her and repeated, "He's okay for now. The doctor is on his way, but Mark has to be still and quiet right now. I replaced the oxygen and he's resting. We'll have to wait for the doctor to get any new information."

Mike turned to the others. "I know it has been a long couple of days, but I don't want Mark or Milt alone here. Bart, can you stay on duty if I stay with you?"

"I can do it."

"Good. Frank, you go on home and get some rest. As soon as Dave gets here, Bart and I will go home then and get some sleep. Mark may want to go home, but I don't think that the doc will let him after this." Mike continued to think.

Before he could say another word, Alexis spoke up again. "Milt, I think you need to go home and rest as well. Mark is really trying to put on a brave front for you so you won't worry about him. He won't rest and give it to the fact that he is still hurt as long as you are here. He won't tell you this and I shouldn't be, but it is the truth. He is counting on you and he is still trying to protect you. You can help him the most by going home."

"But, " Hardcastle started,

"But nothing." a new voice broke in. The assemblage looked around to see Dr. Saunders approach them. "She's right. I wasn't at home when I got the page, I was still in the ER seeing patients. Let me have a look at Mark, then I will come out and talk to you." His attention went to the nurse. The two of them walked off a short way so that Alexis could give a report on Mark's condition.

The two of them disappeared into the patient's room. Frank stole a look at his old friend who was still seated in the chair. For the first time, Hardcastle looked old and tired. Frank was reminded that the judge was nearly 70 years old in spite of his claims to eternal youth. The officer knew that Mark was a large part of Milt's vitality and continued health. He shook his head, finally understanding Alexis's statement about Mark protecting Hardcastle. He wasn't protecting him just from the criminals in the world, but from old age itself. Frank's admiration for the young man went up another notch.

Long minutes passed before the doctor exited the room. Hardcastle stood up to face him. "Mark has had a crisis. He is having more dizzy spells and trouble with his balance and vision. Like I said before, any brain injury can be very serious. The problem has been made worst by the nightmares and the attack on him. Until we can get the problem under control, Mark will be staying here, under sedation if necessary. I have scheduled more tests for this afternoon but for the rest of today, I can't allow any visitors. Not even you Mr. Hardcastle. Mark has to rest, completely."

"I'll be quiet as a mouse. He doesn't need to be alone right now." Hardcastle protested.

"That is exactly what he needs. He is not allowing himself to rest and get better." Dr. Saunders looked at his watch. "I have to go now. Alexis, re-establish the IV and get those meds into him. That will help him to sleep and control the dizziness and the nausea." After giving Mark's chart back to Alexis, the doctor left.

Frank stepped up again. "Okay men, you heard the doctor. Milt, you go say goodnight to Mark then I will take you home. Mike, Tom and I will be back here around six tonight. Alexis, do you want to go home or stay with Mike?"

"I'm staying here. Officially I am still on duty. Mark is my only assigned patient so he won't be alone. I'll go home at the usual time." Alexis left to get the meds that the doctor had ordered.

Hardcastle thought long and hard about what the doctor and the spunky nurse had told him. Logically, it all made sense, but emotionally he felt like he was abandoning his young friend if he went home.

Wordlessly, the older man turned away from the group and entered Mark's room. The young man was lying in bed, oxygen tube replaced under his nose, his face still pale and his eyes tightly closed. As quietly as he could, Milt approached the bed and placed a hand on Mark's shoulder. Mark leaned into the contact and turned toward his friend without opening his eyes.

"How ya doing?" the judge asked.

"Just peachy. Give me five minutes and I'll be ready to go."

"Not today. The doc says you still need to stay for a while longer. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling so lousy? You don't have to pretend for me."

Mark opened his eyes then. "Didn't want you to feel like I was falling down on the job. Besides, it isn't bad, just a bad headache."

"You can't lie to me. The doc told me that you were having more trouble. They are even gonna replace the IV. Doc says you are going to have some more tests, just to make sure everything is where it is supposed to be. Can't have any brain cells floating around loose in there." The concern in Hardcastle's tone belied the light banter in his voice. "You gonna be okay if I go home and sleep for a bit. Mike and Bart are here and the doc is sending me home for a nap."

"Smart doc. Go on home. The stuff that Alexis is gonna give is gonna knock me out, doc says." Mark reached up and grasped his friend's hand. "Go home and let me sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Instead of replying, Hardcastle squeezed Mark's shoulder and left the room as quietly as he had entered. He met the nurse in the hallway with a small tray of equipment. "Take care of him Miss Alex. Call me if he has any trouble."

"I promise, Your Honor. Now go get some sleep." With a smile, Alexis disappeared into Mark's room.

Frank stepped to Hardcastle. "Okay, let's go. I'll drop you off before I head home. I want to check in with the office to see if there have been any new developments. I'll pick you up later. I don't know what time yet, so I'll call before I get there."

"I have the truck here. I can drive myself home." Hardcastle stated.

"Nope. I'm not risking you driving as tired as you are. Mark would kick my butt if I let anything happen to you. You get a taxi for now." Frank took Hardcastle's elbow and steered him down hall without giving him a chance to protest further.

Grinning at each other, Bart and Mike settled themselves in their respective chairs, Mike at the nurse's station and Bart back in front of Mark's door. Bart picked up the discarded newspaper that he had dropped under the chair earlier and opened it up to the sports page. Mike took out his notebook and started rereading all of his notes. He hoped to find a new angle to work on by reviewing his notes.

Inside Mark's room, the nurse had finished replacing the IV and was injecting the first of two syringes of medication. "There, that should do you. That one helps with the dizziness and this one", she picked up the second syringe, " will get rid of the nausea. Both of them make you a bit sleepy, so you should sleep well."

"Thanks. Got anything for pain in there? My head is killing me."

"Already done. That one was in with the first shot." Alex put down the syringe and took Mark's pulse again. She smoothed the sheets and sat down on the bed. "Now then, I know you are worried about Milt, but I saw Frank leave with him. He is fine. All you have to do is relax and sleep. That is really the best medicine for you right now. This afternoon, we'll send you down for another x-ray and do a CT scan on your head. It's a fairly new procedure but it will tell us what is going on inside your brain. That will around five this afternoon. I'll be gone by then, but I'll check on you before I leave. Someone from respiratory will be by as well to check your lungs. Maybe you can get off the O2 then." Alexis gave the young man's hand a grand motherly squeeze. "Do you need anything else before I go?"

"I'm good. I think the meds are kicking in. Just do me one favor?"

"Anything, hon."

"Wake me up if I start dreaming again?"

"Done." With a final squeeze and a smile, Alexis left and Mark snuggled down into the sheets already in the first stages of sleep.

Remarkably, the rest of the day passed peacefully. Mark slept with only the occasional whimper of pain or dream. He woke up briefly when Alexis checked on him but drifted off to sleep almost immediately. Twice the respiratory therapist checked on him and both times she elected to leave the oxygen in place. After a hasty conference with the on call physician, an antibiotic was added to the IV. Neither the therapist or the doctor wanted to give the wheezing in Mark's lungs the chance to turn into pneumonia.

At six that night, Frank, Tom and Hardcastle strode down the hallway toward the nurse's station. "How's Mark?" was the first question asked.

The nurse on duty answered that one. "Mr. McCormick is doing fine. He has slept all day and the tech is coming to get him in about half an hour for the CT scan. He was started on antibiotics and is still on oxygen. There is a bit of concern about his lungs, but the meds should do the trick."

"Thank you." Hardcastle said. "Can I see him now?"

Before she could answer, Mike spoke up. "Not yet, Milt. I think I have something that I want you and Frank to hear. Marcie here is keeping watch on Mark so we can go talk in the lounge."

"Marcie? Marcie Welkins? Is that you?" Frank asked, astonished.

The redheaded nurse gave a big smile. "Yes sir, it's me."

Hardcastle gave a puzzled frown. "You know her?"

"Milton Hardcastle, meet Marcie Welkins. Marcie here was a beat patrol officer for six years before she quit to go into nursing. I didn't know she worked at this hospital." Frank said with a grin.

"I've been working here for about six months. Alexis called me earlier and asked if I would be willing to work my day off to help with a special case. When she explained it to me, I said yes."

Frank smiled. "She said she was going to get someone special to take over her shift. I didn't realize you two knew each other."

"We met about a year ago at the council picnic. I knew Mike from the force and he introduced us. When I finished my degree a few months later, she arranged for me to have an interview here. The rest as they say, is history." Marcie excused herself as the phone rang. She spoke quietly for a few moments before hanging up.

"Judge, the radiologist is coming up to take Mark down to imaging. Would you like to go in with me to make sure he is ready to go?"

"Sure, I'll walk down with the kid. What did you want to say, Mike?"

"I have an idea of why Wolfe is so hot on killing Mark." Feeling sure that he had Frank and Milt's undivided attention, Mike went on. "R and I turned up a few details on the crew that Wolfe uses for his team. Two of them have records for drug dealing, and one of them has a rap sheet for assault. Now don't you think that traveling around the country as part of a racing team would be a great cover for a drug smuggling operation?"

Frank let out a low whistle. "You sure could. Just think of the contacts and the money. All sorts of people hang out at race tracks and secret packages are par for the course as teams try to outfit their cars and not let the other teams in on their little secrets."

"That sounds like a great idea, but what does that have to do with trying to kill Mark? We know that he wasn't being asked to drive and his friend was the one who turned down Wolfe. So, what's the connection?" Frank asked again. "Do you have any ideas Milt?"

Instead of answering, Hardcastle simply turned and entered Mark's room quietly.

Mark was curled up on his side, his curly hair falling into his eyes, showing the stitches in the side of his head. To Milt's eye, his friend seemed younger than his thirty years. The lines of pain around his eyes seemed to have lessened and he seemed at peace. Hardcastle was reluctant to wake him up. The decision was taken from him when Marcie walked into the room and turned on the light. "Time to wake up Mark." she announced.

Hardcastle rounded on her. "You don't have to be so loud. Give him a minute to wake up."

"I'm up, Hardcase. I'll get to the roses in a minute." Mark started to sit up, then caught himself. "Oh my head. I hope the party was worth it."

Hardcastle moved quickly to support Mark while he sat up. "Take it easy, kid. You've had a busy couple of days." He reached for the pitcher of water sitting on the bedside table and poured Mark a drink. He helped his shaky friend to take a drink before easing him back down on the pillows.

"I remember now. How long was I asleep?"

"About seven hours. Do you remember Alex waking you up a couple a times?" Marcie asked.

Mark thought about that for a few seconds, then shook his head slowly. "Nope."

"That's okay. You were really out of it for a while there. Let's get you ready to go down for your CT scan. Do you think you can go to the bathroom for me? I don't think you'll have time later." Hardcastle was surprised at the nurse's bluntness.

"I think I can get up. Help me get this thing off my face." Marcie removed the cannula and pulled back the covers. Minutes later, she had Mark back and sitting on the side of the bed. She pulled a comb from the drawer of the nightstand and gently tried to run it through his hair. After just a few passes, Mark reached up and took the comb away from her. "No offense, but that hurts."

Hardcastle hid his grin at the outraged look on the nurse's face. He was disappointed that he couldn't hear her retort when a knock sounded on the door. He opened it to face a young man pushing a wheelchair. "Somebody call for a taxi?" he asked.

"Hi, Stan." Marcie stood up. "Mark, this is Stan. He's gonna take you downstairs for the CT. The judge can walk down with you if you like."

"Of course I'm going." Hardcastle spoke up.

"Can we have a few minutes here first?" Mark asked.

"Sure, man. You've got five minutes." Stan left the wheelchair and left the room, taking Marcie with him.

Mark poked at the IV in his hand. "Any luck catching Miller?"

"Nope. But I haven't had time to talk to Mike and Frank much. Frank drove me over and said nothing has been reported. I don't know if Mike has found out anything new." He looked down at Mark. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better. The meds took the edge off the dizzy spells so I didn't have too much trouble laying down. My head doesn't hurt as bad but I don't know if that is because I'm getting better, or if I've had a dose of pain meds lately. Just what is this CT scan supposed to do anyway?"

Hardcastle thought hard for a second. "I think it looks inside your brain to see if you have any blood clots or other hidden problems." He knew that Mark needed the truth about the test. "You scared me this morning, kiddo. I thought you were feeling better."

"I thought that if I just ignored the pain, it would go away." Mark sounded more like a boy afraid of being scolded than a full grown man. "I didn't want you to worry about me."

"Next time, we'll let Sarah do the worrying, deal?" Hardcastle put on his biggest grin.

"Deal." Mark's grin wavered, but it was there. The conversation was brought to an end by Stan re-entering the room. It only took a moment to bundle Mark up in the chair and head out the door.

An hour later, Mark was back in his room being tucked into bed by Marcie. "There you go, Mark. I've ordered a light supper tray for you and the respiratory therapist will be by in a few minutes. Dr. Saunders will be here later tonight to review your scan. He should be in here to talk to you before bedtime."

"Any chance I can go home tonight?" Mark asked, hopefully.

"Nope." Marcie said cheerfully. "I get the feeling that your friends out there want you to stay put for a while longer. Something about you having a tendency not to follow doctor's orders at home?" She patted the blanket and left the room, passing by Mike and Frank on her way out.

"Hi guys. Any news yet?"

"Actually," Frank began, "we have an idea and a plan. First though, do you feel up to calling your friend again and getting some answers for us?"

"Sure, whatcha need?" Mark asked as he pushed himself up in the bed. No one missed the wince of pain that accompanied his movements or the slight paling in his face. Hardcastle was there in an instant to help stack the pillows behind Mark's back.

"I want you to call your racing buddy and see exactly what he wants you to do and what he told Wolfe. See if anyone else has been asking about this new team and your part in it." Frank explained.

"You want to find out why I've become so popular, right?" Mark asked, a hint of his usual humor finding it's way into his voice.

"Exactly."

Mark grinned and took the phone that the judge handed him. It took only seconds for him to get he friend on the phone. "Hi, Billy, how's the team coming together? I should be up and around in a day or so. Maybe we can get together early next week to go over your short list of possibilities. I have a few names that I want to run by you. You said that you told Wolfe no on driving, but who do you have as a pit crew? Really, now that's kinda strange. Did you explain to him how things work?" Mark was silent for a while as his friend explained.

"But why would he be against me being on the team? I mean, I'm not driving or anything." More listening. "Okay. Look, call me if you find out anything more. And if you don't mind, I have a friend or two on the police department that I would like to ask about this guy. I mean, I know he's your brother-in-law, but something just doesn't sound right here. Thanks. I'll let you know what I find out." Mark hung up the phone and sat still for a moment, staring at the blanket and pondering the information he had just been given.

"Well," Mike prompted.

"I'm not sure. Bill says that his brother-in-law suddenly showed an interest in his new team. Says he has a friend who can contribute a large part of the finances. In return, this guy wants his people as pit crew. Says Billy can choose the new drivers, but he gets to pick the crew and wants a say in what races they enter. He doesn't want me anywhere near the team. Some cock and bull story about me not knowing enough about current races and racers." Mark explained.

"What is this guy's name?" Hardcastle asked.

"I've never heard of him. Some guy named Rex Tabor."

Mark at each man in turn, seeing the same expression of familiarity on each one. "So who is Tabor?" He listened as Frank explained what he knew of Tabor's criminal background. "And my being pals with the judge here would really put a crimp in their style."

"That makes a lot of sense. These boys really don't want anyone associated with the cops to be around their little operation. You say Tabor is this guy's brother-in-law?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. So now what do we do?"

Frank rubbed his hands down his face and stared off into space. Mike stoked his chin and Hardcastle rested his arms on his stomach as he leaned back in the chair. No one spoke for several long minutes.

Hardcastle was the one to break the long silence. "The way I see it," he began, "Tabor needs Mark out of the way so he can talk his brother in law into picking just the right people for the pit crew. With full control of the driver and crew, Tabor and his cronies can set up a sweet little smuggling operation..

"We figured out that much, Kemosabe." Mark snapped. He immediately put up his hands in apology. "Sorry, but get to the point, okay?"

"I'm getting there. What if your friend reconsiders and appoints you as the new driver? He could tell Tabor that you have accepted the job and will be bringing in some old racing buddies of yours as pit crew. You still have enough contacts to do that, right?" At Mark's nod, the judge continued. "Now, he tells Tabor just when you will be starting your practices at the track. And since these boys are real bright, so they're gonna smell blood and come for ya at the track."

Frank spoke up, "That could work. But won't that just make Tabor think about giving up and going after another team?"

"Not really," Mark said. "Getting a team into racing is really hard. I know that Mike has already sunk a lot of money and effort into getting his team pulled together. It's not something that you just drop. And since he is known, he has the clout to get into some good races and hire good people. Everything would look and sound legit. Tabor could run anything and no one would look twice. I mean, how long did Denny Collins have his team together? If it hadn't been for old Hardcastle here, they'd still be in business."

Frank crossed his arms and considered. "Then we are stuck with you posing as the new driver. Your friend could tell people that he needed someone experienced to start with while you train someone else."

"That could work. I still race some so it would look natural for me to be the starting racer for Mike since we are old friends." Some of the light began to shine in Mark's eyes again. "So how do we play this one out?"

Hardcastle spoke up again. "Simple, we get Mike to make the announcement to Tabor and mention when you will be showing up at the track to start working. If Tabor is as hot to get control of this team as I think he is, he won't waste any time trying to get to you."

"So I get to be a moving target again?"

"No, hotshot, I do. You're in no shape to drive. I'll drive and let them come after me." Hardcastle said with an air of finality.

Mark shook his head. "Won't work. If this Tabor knows anything about racing, he'll see in an instant that you aren't a pro. In fact, he may know my style. If it isn't me in that car, he'll pull out and we won't find him again until it is too late. He may try to hurt Mike to get control of the team."

Mike spoke up. "Will your friend be willing to go along with this? After all, Tabor is his brother-in-law."

Mark thought for a moment before speaking. "Bill is a good guy who truly loves racing. He and his wife have been together for about two years now. He probably doesn't know anything about Tabor. I don't know how much his wife may know. Doing anything from inside could get really tricky. I don't want Billy hurt."

"Do you trust him?" This was from Hardcastle.

Mark met his eyes with firmness. "Billy is one of the oldest friends I have. Flip introduced me to him when I first got into racing. He knows all about my past and still tries to include me in things. He knows that I just race to keep my hand in, but that my real life has nothing to do with racing. Yeah, I trust him."

Hardcastle met his gaze directly. "That's good enough for me. As soon as the doc lets you go, we'll invite Billy over to the house for a chat. He should be in on the plans and the danger to his team."

The conversation came to an end when a knock sounded on the door. "It's Dr. Saunders, may I come in?"

Mike got up and let the doctor in. "We'll wait in the hall, Milt." He and Frank left the room as Hardcastle stood up to address the doctor.

"Well, what's the verdict?" Mark asked.

"Everything checked out. I think your episode earlier was just your body telling you to slow down and sleep. The CT scan showed no problems. In the morning, we'll run a blood test to make sure you aren't developing pneumonia. I f you have a good night, and the blood test comes back good, I'll send you home tomorrow." Dr. Saunders looked nearly as pleased as Hardcastle. "How do you feel right now?"

Mark considered for a moment. "I still have a headache but it isn't as bad. The dizziness is down to a slow merry-go-round and I am a bit hungry."

"How about your breathing? Are you feeling any tightness or pain in your chest?"

"No, not really. I can take a deep breath now and I don't feel anything."

"Good. Let me listen to you." The doctor pulled a stethoscope from his pocket and listened to Mark's lungs. He straightened up and put the scope back. "You sound a lot clearer. The antibiotics are working." He checked his watch. "It's nearly eight now. Judge, I am going to ask you to leave for the night so that Mark can get a good night's sleep. Come back in the morning and I'll have an answer for you. Mark, you get some sleep and I'll be by early to see you. Good night, Judge." With a stern look to Hardcastle, the doctor left the room. Both Mark and the judge could hear him telling Frank and Mike that Hardcastle was to go home for the night.

Frank called in another uniformed officer to stand watch for the night on Mark's room. Though no one expected more trouble, neither were they willing to let their guard down and invite trouble. To insure that Milt really did go home, Frank followed him to Gull's Way and escorted his friend to the front door before heading to his own home for the night.

Early the next morning, Hardcastle showed up at the hospital. He wasn't surprised to find Mark dressed and ready to go. "Has the doc already been here?" he asked.

"Sure has," came the answer from the door. Marcie stuck her head in. "Good morning. I was just on my way home. Judge, I have the discharge papers for you, including his meds and instructions to rest." She waved a sheaf of papers around before handing them to the judge. "Since I know Mark won't tell you, I will. No exertion for a couple of days and then only light stuff for a bit. No driving for a week at least." She grinned at Mark's grimace. "Sorry, hon, but you know what the doc told you about head injuries. They heal slow. You do not want another break down."

Hardcastle just grinned at the look of outrage on Mark's face. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. It'll take us that long to get this setup for Tabor ready anyway. He'll get suspicious if we move too fast. Let's go. I'll fill you in on the plan when we get home. Frank and Mike are coming over after breakfast and Sarah is fixing plenty. She is very angry that we wouldn't allow her to come to the hospital and bring you food."

"I wish she had of come. That hospital food barely qualifies as food, and forget about taste." Mark stood up and reached for the duffel bag at the foot of the bed, "Come on, let's get out of here." He was stopped by the judge's hand reaching the bag first and the sound of a very disapproving nurse clearing her throat.

"Not so fast, Mark. Let me bring in the wheelchair. You know the rules, every patient gets escorted out by chair." Marcie let a sympathetic grin show on her face. "Just humor me, okay?" Without giving Mark a chance to answer, she opened the door wide and pulled in the chair that she had stashed in the hallway. She gestured to the seat and wisely held her tongue as her young charge seated himself in the wheelchair.


	7. Chapter 8

Hardcastle held the door open so that Marcie could wheel out her patient. The young uniformed officer at the door discreetly followed the group down to the lobby and held open the door of the truck while Hardcastle tried not to help McCormick climb in. Hardcastle shook his hand and said a heartfelt 'thank you' before climbing into the truck himself and driving home. As he watched the silver and black truck drive out of the parking lot, the young officer felt Marcie take his hand.

"Thanks for helping out, Izzy. Since you just transferred here, no one knows you by sight yet. Frank said he'd be calling on you to help with some other plans they have. I guess now you will be able to put that hobby of yours to work."

Officer Isaiah Matthews pecked Marcie on the cheek. "My pleasure sis. Lt. Harper talked to me last night about joining McCormick's racing team. It's been a while since I crewed at the local track, but I keep up." He glanced at his watch. "I'd better go. I have to be on duty this afternoon and I'd like to get a little sleep. Call me around four when you get up, would you?" With Marcie's promise in hand, the tall officer walked off to his own patrol car and left the parking lot.

Once back at Gull's Way, Mark was happy to see Sarah waiting for them on the front step. Though her manner could be sharp and curt, Mark was as fond of Sarah as he was of the judge. He had quickly learned that Sarah was to be obeyed at every turn, even Judge Hardcastle went out of his way to do Sarah's bidding. In turn, Sarah had taken Mark under her wing and treated him like a favored nephew. Baked treats would find their way to his tiny kitchen in the gatehouse, and fresh cookies and cold drinks were available any time of day, if his chores were done. The housekeeper had taught Mark how to do laundry properly, how to keep a clean house, and was teaching him how to cook. She felt that since Mark had lost his mother so early in his young life, it was now her job to teach him to fend for himself. Now she led him into the kitchen and sat him down at the table where a substantial breakfast of pancakes and sausages awaited him.

"This is heaven, Sarah." Mark mumbled through a mouthful of hotcakes. "I was so tired of hospital food I was planning on bribing the doctor to bring me some real food."

Sarah beamed, though she was careful not to let Mark see her. "Well slow down and eat properly or you'll be right back there with indigestion." She grinned back at Hardcastle as the jurist snorted loudly into his coffee. She poured more milk for Mark before placing the coffee pot on the table between the two. "Now Mark, you will be staying in the guest room here for a few days so that I can keep an eye on you. I know you are under orders to rest and you won't if you are out in the gatehouse by yourself. The bed's already made up and I've put some of your clothes and stuff in there. And yes, I even put your toothbrush and shaving kit in the bathroom for you."

Sarah's no-back-talk tone left no room for argument. Meekly, Mark thanked her and bent to finish his meal. "I'll be up to snuff in no time Sarah, and I can get caught up on the yard work. Do you need me to help you with the dishes this morning?"

Sarah ruffled his hair. "No, I have the feeling that you and the judge will be too busy for yardwork for a while, but I will be keeping my eye on you. You still need to rest, so don't get too busy." This time she included Hardcastle in her stern gaze.

After breakfast, both men retired to the den and Mark sank onto the soft couch instead of flopping across his favorite armchair. He laid down so that he could see Hardcastle settling himself behind the wide wooden desk by the window. "So now what?"

"Now, you call your friend and get him over here. You need to work on putting together your pit crew and setting yourself up to race. I have a few names of officers here who have worked in racing so you'll have some help. I'll be hanging around, but I want to stand on the outside and watch the crowd." Hardcastle held up a sheet of paper.

"What kind of experience do these guys have? I have a few buddies that I need to bring in to make this legit. And they're guys that I was planning on recommending anyway. One of them used to work for Tommy, my friend over in Arizona." Mark tried to stifle a yawn.

Hardcastle pretended not to notice. "One of them is Lt. Kelly Carlton. You remember him don't ya? He's an old friend of mine who transferred down to San Diego about a year ago. He used to race as a kid and now he helps with his granddaughter's team there. I thought he'd make a good crew chief. Another one you met today at the hospital, Isaiah Matthews . He works on the dirt tracks around here as a mechanic for hire and security. He said he could get us another man if we needed to. How many are usually in a pit crew? Five?"

A gentle snoring from the couch was all the answer he received.

Hardcastle shook his head at the sight of his sleeping friend as he got up quietly from his desk and crossed over to the couch. He took the afghan from the foot of the couch and covered Mark with it. Slipping out of the room, he intercepted Sarah who was carrying a glass of water and Mark's antibiotic. "He's asleep. He can take that later."

"Are you sure he's alright, Judge? He looks as pale and unsteady as a new born ghost. They let him out of the hospital way to soon if you ask me." Sarah stated firmly as she led the way back into the kitchen.

Hardcastle ran both hands down his face. "He's safer here. He feels safer here. I get the feeling that there weren't a lot of people for him to count on before if he got hurt or sick. This has been really hard on him. Kid's too damn independent for his own good."

"He's had to be, hasn't he? Nobody to depend on but himself. That kid in there has a lot of courage and I admire him for it. Now if he'll just learn to pick up his socks and boil water, I won't have to worry about him any more." Sarah gave a small noise of satisfaction and busied herself with washing the breakfast dishes.

Hardcastle went out to the patio to wait for Mike and Frank to show up. He wanted to outline how they were going to nab Tabor and how to keep Mark safe doing it. Having a good solid team behind Mark in the race was going to be a huge part of it and Hardcastle wasn't taking any chances. His guests showed up an hour later and the three of them talked and schemed for nearly two hours waiting for Mark to wake up.

It was nearly eleven before Mark made his way out to the small table by the pool to join the three officers. "You should have woken me up. You didn't have to wait on me."

Frank answered wryly, "Sarah wouldn't let us. She threatened to pin our ears back if we disturbed you."

"Good old Sarah." Mark replied as he sat down opposite Mike.

"I'll show you 'Good old Sarah' young man" came Sarah's firm voice as she set down a tray of glasses filled with iced tea. She took a medicine bottle out of her pocket and handed it to Mark. "Take your medicine now." She watched as Mark took the pill and handed back the bottle. She gave a final sniff and disappeared back into the house.

"Okay, kid. You're on. Call up your friend and invite him over here. We need to get you all set up as his new driver with your own special pit crew. Tabor will find out about it pretty quickly and we're betting he will make a really stupid move to get you out of the way and get his own people in there." Hardcastle pushed the phone over to Mark and waited quietly while Mark made the call and invited his friend over for that afternoon.

"So, who's all in my pit crew?" Mark asked.

"How many do you need?" Mike asked.

"At least three but four is good plus a crew chief. Didn't you say something about Clarkson being a race fan?"

"He knows the ropes, works as pit crew for his granddaughter's team. And Matthews still works as pit crew and security for the dirt tracks here." Mike answered.

"Isaiah Matthews?" Mark asked, surprised.

"Yeah, that's him. He was at the hospital this morning, he's Marcie's brother." Frank spoke up. "Why, do you know him?"

"I know of him. Good man to have around, knows engines like the back of his hand. He's worked the dirt track for a couple of years now. I didn't know he was a cop."

Frank looked at his watch before answering, "He wanted to keep it that way. Something about needing to forget he was a cop sometimes and just have fun. Is he legit enough for you?"

Mark nodded. "He'll do great. So that makes four including me. Kelly can be crew chief, Matthews, my friend Riley Lee, and we need one more. I know a guy that I can get that has a good solid reputation."

"Let's run this by your friend before we pick the last one. Maybe he has more information for us. It might be fun to include one of Tabor's men so we can use him. Control Tabor's information." Mike said.

"That could work, but won't Tabor get suspicious?" Hardcastle asked.

Mark answered that one. "Not if the guy really is pit crew and has the experience. I could just say that the last one I wanted to ask turned me down and I needed one more. If this friend of Tabor's is putting up the money, he deserves a shot to have someone on the team as well, make it fair and all that."

"Who is this Riley Lee?" Hardcastle asked. "I haven't heard you talk about anyone by that name."

"Riley Lee Madewell used to work only amateur races but has been moving up in the world. This would be a major break." Mark appeared to be thinking deeply. "You know, Riley is one of the people I was considering training as a driver anyway. Let me make a phone call." He got up and walked slowly to the gatehouse.

Frank and Mike watched him go. "Is he really up to this, Milt?"

Hardcastle gave a long sigh. "He's up for it. Kid actually gets better faster if he's busy. He's so bored right now that he offered to wash the breakfast dishes for Sarah this morning when we got home."

After a round of easy laughter, the men settled down to wait for Mark's return. Ten minutes later he was back. "Everything's set. Riley'll be here next week, probably Tuesday morning. Kinda liked the idea of training for driving." Anything else he was going to say was interrupted by Sarah bringing out a hot lunch of open faced sandwiches.

After lunch, Sarah shooed Mark back into the house for another nap. Bill Hankins was due at three and she promised to wake him up before then. Mike and Frank both left after promising to be back at two thirty. Hardcastle busied himself with the yard work, telling himself that he was just making sure that the place didn't go to pot before Mark would be allowed to pick up a pair of shears.

By three that afternoon Frank was back, Mark was awake and Sarah was serving coffee and fresh chocolate chip cookies in the den. When the doorbell rang, Sarah answered it. She came back into the room with Dave and another man. "Your Honor, this man says he has an appointment with Mark."

Mark got up from the armchair. "Billy!" The two men exchanged a quick hug. "I'm glad you could come by."

Bill Hankins was a slightly built man with thinning black hair. "It sounded important. What happened to you? You said a slight accident, but you look like the party after the party."

"I feel better than I look. Have a seat." Quickly, Mark introduced the rest of the men in the room and let Hardcastle take over the meeting. Hardcastle explained about Mark's 'accident' and the role that Wolfe had played in it. He explained what they knew about Rex Tabor and asked Bill just how well he knew his brother-in-law.

"I don't really. He's my wife's stepbrother. He was at the wedding and he and Sue talk occasionally. Sue has been into racing for years, but we just got together about three years ago. She lived on the East Coast. She did tell me that her brother was good at getting into trouble. She doesn't want him to have anything to do with her racing team." Hankins took a drink of his coffee. "Are you sure that he is into drugs and stuff?"

"Pretty sure. Did he say anything about this friend of his with the money?" Frank asked.

"No, he was pretty vague. Said the guy didn't want his name used but that he had a lot of connections."

"I bet he does. How do you feel about us using your team start up to nail the guys who tried to kill Mark?" Hardcastle asked bluntly.

"Let's do it. Racing is a sport but it can get dirty quick. I've been in a long time and I've seen a lot of bad stuff. It's clowns like Tabor that drag us all down in the dirt." Hankins leveled his gaze on Mark. "How bad is it?"

Mark shrugged it off. "A concussion, a few stitches, I'll be able to drive in a day or two."

Hardcastle fixed him with a steely glare. "Add in the breathing problems, the attack, and the pills and you might get in a car in a week." He held up a hand to forestall Mark's protest.

Hankins grinned widely. "You mean to tell me that Mark has found someone he can't get around. My hat is off to you, Judge. Look, it's going to take that long to get the track rented, the cars brought up and the paperwork submitted and approved. Mark, have you got that list for the team? We can always replace and rehire later. That's pretty standard with new teams in this business. Do you have a list of the people you want and their qualifications?" He took the list that Mark handed him.

"Okay, I've heard of Matthews. He's good. I don't know Clarkson, but I'll trust your judgement. I want to add in Ray Sutters. He's been with me forever." Hankins stopped speaking and looked at Mark. "Riley. You want to bring Riley in on this?"

Mark looked smug. "Yes. Trust me, Riley can handle it."

Mike returned the smug look, "Yeah, but can these guys handle Riley?" A grin and two raised eyebrows were his only answer.

The next five days passed quickly for Mark. He slept for shorter and shorter periods each day and was relieved when the doctor finally gave him permission to drive again. Hankins had gotten the paperwork all submitted and approved by the local racing commission to form the new team and had signed up for the first three races of the new season. He reported that Tabor had come to the house and was putting pressure on his sister to talk her husband into changing his mind and putting Tabor in charge of the team. Sue reported that her step brother had something bothering him and she was afraid he was in big trouble this time.

Tuesday morning found the entire group back out at Hardcastle's pool. Hankins had brought Ray Sutters and introduced him to the officers. Ray and Mark knew each other and happily engaged Kelly and Isaiah in the plans for the car that Ray had brought with him. While the car team plotted their strategies, the officers plotted theirs. Hardcastle had agreed that Mark would drive to keep Tabor from being too suspicious. Tabor had already approached Hankins about a new "parts" supplier and Hankins had agreed to purchase supplies from him only. Frank was already running a background check on the supplier. Nothing had been found, but he was sure it was only a matter of time before something would blip on the radar.

Hardcastle's answer to one of Mike's questions was interrupted when Sarah stood behind him and cleared her throat. "Your Honor, Mark has a visitor in the front drive." Mark looked up when he heard his name.

"Who is it, Sarah?" Mark asked.

"A Riley Lee Madewell." Mark whooped in joy and his friend let loose a big laugh. Mark strode quickly to the front door, stopping just long enough to plant a kiss on Sarah's cheek and say a quick word of thanks. Sarah just shook her head and went back into the kitchen to finish making lunch.

Mark returned moments later with a handsome looking woman in tow. She was tall with a stocky athletic frame and long thick black hair. Her faded blue jeans and peasant style shirt gave her a gypsy like appearance and the twinkle in her eye matched the one in Mark's. Hankins rose from his chair and walked over to her. "Hello Riley Lee." he said as he gave her a long hug.

"Hello, Mike. How's Sue doing these days?"

"She's good. You're staying at our house you know."

"I didn't know, but I'll be happy to stay if Sue will have me." The laughter in her voice was warm.

"Have you?! She'd kick me out if I didn't bring you home." Any further conversation was interrupted by the not to subtle sound of Hardcastle clearing his throat. "Excuse me, guys. Ms. Riley Lee Madewell is the last member of our pit crew. She'll be staying on with me after our little party."

The men all rose. "Welcome Ms. Madewell." the judge said, shooting a look at Mark. "You'll have to pardon our surprise but Mark didn't mention..."

"That I'm a girl?" She laughed out loud. "He just doesn't want to admit that someone knows engines better than he does." Everyone laughed at Mark's half hearted burst of denial. He ended up pulling out a chair for his new guest and everyone pulled their chairs closer. Introductions were made then Hardcastle turned to Mike.

"Ok, now we can set up our little surprise. Hankins, what's the schedule for the track?"

"I have the practice track booked from three to six for the next three days. The race is on Saturday. The trials will be in the morning with the main event starting at four. Mark will qualify easily. Whoever wins this one gets on the short list for advertisers looking for new drivers. I've already talked to several potential sponsors. Mark has been racing in small stuff so his name is still out there and he is still a good investment. One bunch has been poking their nose in a lot lately." He paused to take a small notebook out of his pants pocket. "I don't know this bunch, Jeeves Auto. Tabor has really talked them up as well. He wants to put one of their men on the team as an advisor or something. Says the guys can get us invited to some of the bigger races in other towns. He showed me a timetable, it's crazy."

Frank spoke up. "What's this new guy's name? "

"Martin Jeffers. I've never heard of him."

Mike looked up. "Martin Jeffers? I've heard of him. He's got a rap sheet about a mile long for drugs and weapons. With him and Tabor's rumors of being a hit man, we've hit a whole new ball game. This isn't about smuggling car parts or drugs or guns. We've missed something, something big. You don't pull in heavy weights for a new operation.

"What's wrong with this timetable of races? Aren't they planned out in advance? It's hard to reschedule a race?" Frank noted.

Riley leaned forward in her chair. "It's not a question of scheduling a race, it's a matter of deciding which races you will enter. On the small ones, you just show up. The larger ones you let them know you are coming so they can plan the try-outs, make sure they have spaces for each team, work in advertising etc. It's up to the teams to plan what races they want to enter and the route they want to follow. The sponsor doesn't have any say in that. As the racer wins more, they push for the bigger races. The goal is to make money after all."

Hankins pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. " Here is the schedule I want to run. Nothing big, two or three races a month since I want to train a driver." He handed the paper to Mark who read it and started nodding. He pulled out another piece of paper. "Now here's the schedule that Jeffers wants me to follow. Four races in three states within two weeks of each other! It can't be done."

Ray spoke up. "I know those tracks. They aren't the cream of the crop and some of the drivers there have been sanctioned from the bigger tracks. A few independent drivers hang around hoping to pick up a ride for the race to break in or something. A good solid team won't go near at least two of them."

Clarkson and Matthews crossed over to stand behind Mike and read the schedule. Clarkson was the first to speak. "Milt, even I've heard of this one, Sparks. Last year there was a big scandal about the manager raping his secretary during one of the races. And that didn't raise a whole lot of eyebrows down there."

"Okay then, the way I see it, Tabor and Jeffers have something cooked up for one or all of the races that they want Bill in. Mike, can you and Frank run checks on these tracks, the owners, the management, anything?" Hardcastle turned to Hankins. "How soon do you have to sign up for these races? And is there one in particular that they want you at?"

"The big one is that 250 this weekend at the temp track they are setting up outside of Barstow. The military base there is hosting it for a recruiting event. I've already signed up for it. Come to think of it, Tabor said something about how Wolfe would really enjoy running that race." Bill said.

Frank pondered that one. "That's Fort Irwin isn't it?" Receiving an affirmative nod from Hardcastle, he went on. "Fort Irwin is a training facility out in the desert. Training means new weapons. Jeffers is a gun runner."

Clarkson's face became grave. "Of course they can't have Mark anywhere near that team! If they are planning something, they can't afford to have someone friendly with a judge to get in the way. That's why they needed Wolfe. Wolfe already has a record."

Ray's gray hair flopped into his eyes. "The magazine article said that Wolfe was looking to drive for a new team. That and the fact that Tabor and Sue are related made Bill's team the one to go for. If Bill gets stubborn and doesn't play by their rules..."

"Sue!" Hankins shot up out of his chair. "I've got to call her and get her out of the house. What if they go after her to get me to go along with them."

"Take it easy, Billy. Go invite her over for supper." Frank turned to Mark. "Do you remember anything else about the guys with Wolfe when they attacked you?"

Mark slumped back in his seat and thought hard. The others could see the emotions flicker across the young man's face as he struggled to recall that night. "We went to Indian Dunes. I was telling Hardcase about the invitation to Sue's birthday party. We crested the hill and stopped at the bottom along the tree line. I had done some work on the Coyote's brakes. When we stopped, a man came out of the trees with a gun. I yelled just as more came out. I recognized Wolfe then and called out to him. I was thinking that maybe they were out target shooting and I didn't want to upset them. I got out of the car, then all of the guns were pointed at me and the judge." He stopped for a moment. Riley laid her hand on his arm. Mark didn't notice as he resumed his narrative.

"Wolfe came at me and two others grabbed the judge. It gets jumbled after that. I remember they hit the judge, pushed me down and then a shot." Mark shrugged his shoulders. "Everything else is bits and pieces. I don't know what is real and how much of it my imagination made up."

"How about you, Milt? What happened after they shot Mark?" Kelly's voice was low and gentle. He knew how hard it had to have been on the older man to see Mark hurt so badly.

"They pushed me into the tree line. There were two cars there. Me and three of the guys got into one and Wolfe and the other three got into the other one. I was taken to that shack on the beach. I didn't see the others after that. I got out during the night and went to see Mike." Hardcastle's voice was flat and unemotional.

Frank was making notes in his pocket notebook. " I know you looked through the mug books and didn't find anyone you knew. That has to mean that these guys weren't local. Did either of you look at any more racing magazines to see if you recognized anyone?"

Mark and Hardcastle looked at each other. "Nope,"was the simple answer.

Isaiah spoke up. "How about a composite drawing? Do either of you remember their faces well enough to make a drawing? Maybe one of the rest of us will recognize someone."

"I did that but Mark hasn't." Hardcastle stood up. "Come on McCormick. We'll go down to the station and see if Milly is around today. She's the best."

"I've got a better idea, Milt." Frank stopped his impetuous friend. "Let me call Tom Kinney and have him bring Milly here. In case you forgot, I've still got a guard on this place."

Hardcastle sat back down grumpily. "Fine, call Tom."

Now Hankins spoke up. "The race is this Saturday. We start practices tomorrow. What can we do now?"

Hardcastle slapped the arms of his chair. "You call a meeting with Tabor and this Jeffers character. Tell them that Mark is ready to roll and that you have your team together. Say that Mark wants to meet them and show off his stuff." McCormick could see the thoughts race across his mentor's face. "I've got a few phone calls to make." With that, Hardcastle disappeared inside.

The large group broke up after that. The racing team took over Mark's living room in the guesthouse to plot for the practice races. Billy had brought the plans for the car for Riley to go over. A large part of the practice races would be for the pit crew to learn to function together. The cops took over Milt's den and took turns using the phones or writing up plans and strategies for Mark's safety while he was racing. Tom showed up with Milly and within an hour had a good bunch of drawings of the men who had attacked Mark and the judge. No one in the group recognized any of the men, but Frank left to circulate the pictures around law enforcement agencies across the region.

After supper, the group, including Billy's wife, Sue, gathered in the den for one more round of talks. "So what's to prevent Tabor from just taking over another racing team?" Mike asked.

"Not enough time." came Hankins answer. "If you're right and he has something planned for the army base, he doesn't have enough time to get in with another team. I have to call him tomorrow and I don't know what to say to him."

"That's the easy part," Mark said. "just tell him that we are one short of a full pit crew. Ask if he has someone in mind that can cross train as a mechanic and a driver. We have to have a way to feed him false information and keep tabs on him at the same time.

The following afternoon found Hankins, the pit crew, the judge and Mark, at the practice field. For two hours they learned to work together and Mark got the feel of the Trans-Am he would be racing. Mike had a back up Trans-Am as well so that one was driven as well. Mark was very pleased with the performance of both cars and insisted that Riley drive as well. She was a good driver as well as a top mechanic.


	8. Chapter 9

Mark finished the lap he was driving and pulled into the pit area as he saw Billy driving into the garage/work area. He was helped out of the car by Riley and they joined the rest of the pit crew as he walked toward them. "It didn't work," Bill stated simply.

"What didn't work?" Hardcastle asked.

"Tabor says that he doesn't have anyone to add as pit crew. Says that the man he had got hired on by another crew and that we can carry on with who we have. He also said that he was leaving town for a few days and he would catch up with us in Barstow. Now what do we do?"

Clarkson stroked his chin and thought for a few seconds. "I say that we head for Barstow. The track is set up and we can start some practice laps. While we do that, Milt and the others can do a quick recon and talk to the army guys. Jeffers has to be planning something there and then. I just don't see how. The track is five miles off the base proper."

Riley's face crinkled in puzzlement. "Why so far off? I thought this was a recruiting drive for them?"

Mike Delany answered that one. "Fort Irving is a weapons storage base. While it isn't advertised, I wouldn't be surprised if they kept a few new toys out there for the army. That has to be what Jeffers is after."

"And that is where my accident comes in." Mark put in quietly. Seeing the shocked looks on his friend's faces, Mark went on. "Think about it. Big race day, lots of people, and then a bad driving accident. Guess where all the excitement and security are going to be. Not on the skeleton crew stationed at a secure base."

Hardcastle shook his head in agreement. "The kid's right. With all the focus on the race, the boys they leave on security aren't going to have their hearts in it. And there won't be enough of them to fight off a good attack. We have to be ready for that. And find a way to protect McCormick at the same time."

With a heavy heart and many misgivings, the group broke up and began preparations to head for Barstow. They arrived the following afternoon and spent the rest of the day getting set up. Mark felt the old excitement as he got the car out onto the track and gave it the gas. Racing was something he was good at and really missed. He would never tell the judge just how much he missed it, but days like this were to be enjoyed. At least the next two days were, before the main race.

Race day dawned bright and clear. Kelly and Riley had taken turns standing guard over the car all night to prevent any sabotage. The judge had quietly been in touch with a few friends that he had with Army contacts and made a few interesting discoveries. The Army was experimenting with a new command and control program for long range ballistic missiles. The base was the testing center for the program and the tests were nearly complete. Secrecy had been a problem with the project since the army suspected they had a traitor working on the inside. They hadn't been able to prove anything, but they weren't taking any chances.

Tabor and Jeffers met the team in the pit two hours before the main race. Mark had qualified to start in the sixth position and they feigned excitement for him. After receiving assurances that everything was in order and wishing Mark good luck, the two men left, ostensibly to find seats in the stands. Hankins had elected to stay in the pit area to help the pit crew. While he had every confidence in the officers, he also knew that anything could happen during a race. The car had been checked out thoroughly and the stand by car was under guard.

Hardcastle chewed his lip as he stood in the pit area and waited for the green flag. Waiting had never been his favorite part of anything and this was even worse. Mark was right, the best way to create a distraction was to cause a major incident here at the track. Extra help and medical assistance would be sent down from the army base and it would be easy for a well-informed group to make it onto the base in the confusion. He had warned a colleague of his about the possible plot to steal the new weapon system and was assured that security was taken of.

"Relax, Milt. Every tv show on the air has the bad guys trying to steal government weapons. Trust me, it isn't that easy. The best security we have is the stuff you don't see." He was still laughing when he hung up the phone.

The sound of revving engines and the bark of chatter from the loudspeakers brought Hardcastle out of his reverie. The race had started at last and he strained to see Mark through the dust. Kelly was on the headset talking to Mark and getting performance results already. The best bet that anyone could come up with was that Tabor and friends would wait until the race was nearly half over before pulling anything.

Kelly and the rest of the pit crew watched the stands and the crowds nearly as much as they watched the race. Mark seemed to be holding his own and had even moved up in position. He was now holding a steady third place. Hardcastle watched anxiously at his young friend. He knew that despite the danger, Mark was enjoying racing again.

Frank caught him by the elbow and pulled him over to a secluded spot near the garages. Hardcastle stumbled and nearly fell from the force of Frank's pull. "What is going on?" he asked, irritated.

"I found it." was the simple reply.

Hardcastle perked up instantly. "Found what?"

"The reason for all of this. It doesn't have anything to do with the army base." Frank waved a bunch of papers at the judge. "According to these race documents, at least one of the teams here is from out of the country. And they brought some pretty high ranking people with them. We know that Jeffers is a hit man. I think this whole thing is a set up. There's gonna be a hit, maybe more than one."

Hardcastle took the papers and scrutinized them. "I think you're right. Mike said something the other day about the drug trade getting too hot in California right now. We know that a lot of the cartels in South America are branching out to kidnapping and murder to line their pockets. What if our All-American boys want to play the same game?"

Frank nodded. "It all fits. They set up a team that is used to smuggling. Wolfe makes a noisy splash on the track, and the team either makes a hit or takes a hostage. They can do it before, during, or after the race. The drug smuggling is just a cover. They can be shed in a minute to give the local cops something to do. Who would suspect two different games being played at the same time?"

Hardcastle nodded. "That's why none of this made any sense. We were looking at the wrong people doing the wrong thing. They needed Mark out of the way because he would bring too much official attention just in an ordinary race. The races at the seedier tracks was to throw us off the scent. We were supposed to look for guns or drugs, not an assassination." Hardcastle handed the papers back to Frank then ran both hands down his face and reset his ball cap. "As I see it now, they will cause some kind of stir on the track to hide their real target. Mark is still the best bet just for revenge. And yes, I know that Wolfe got out on bail two days ago."

Frank shook his head. "How'd you find out?"

Hardcastle grinned. "I still have a friend or two downtown. Can you get a list of any standout candidates here while I talk to Kelly and the rest of the crew?" Frank nodded and started to walk off. Hardcastle pulled at his arm to stop him. "One more thing, tell security to find Jeffers and Tabor. Don't detain them or anything, just keep an eye on them. Jeffers is a trigger man, he may do the job himself."

"I'm on it. I'll meet you back here in fifteen minutes." With that, Frank moved off at fast pace while the judge went back to the pit crew and filled them in on his suspicions.

"I know who it is." Hankins spoke up.

Hardcastle looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Who?"

"Nathan Trevors. He's a state senator who has taken a big stand against the drug trade here and in his native Columbia. He has a lot of pull and will probably end up being governor in a few years. His father was one of the first murders years ago when the gangs started using kidnappings to earn money. His mother brought the family here but Nathan has never rested. He has also followed racing for most of his life. I just found out that he is in the stands today. I met him years ago and he sent word about an hour ago that he wants me to come see him after the race to catch up on old times." Hankins stared at Hardcastle. "So what do we do now?"

It only took a second for Hardcastle to consider his answer. "Do you know where Trevors is right now?"

"I don't know where his seat is. Since this is a temporary track, there aren't any private boxes. He could be anywhere. When he comes to the races, he dresses like a dirt track mechanic and you're just as likely to find him drinking a beer with some of the pit crews as anything else." Bill scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Let me send Sue and Ray to find him. Sue knows him."

"Okay, you do that and have her bring him here. I'm gonna get hold of Frank and see about getting more security here. Have Kelly bring Mark in as soon as he can and fill him in. Tabor and friends may still want to cause a panic in the race to provide cover for themselves." Bill nodded his compliance and strode off quickly. Hardcastle checked his watch and realized that he only had to wait for a few more minutes before Frank would return. Returning to the spot by the garage, he waited impatiently, one hand patting his front pocket to insure that the gun he had hidden there was ready. He began to pace as he added up the pieces and found that the whole puzzle was coming into focus. Tabor and Jeffers needed a racing team to set up a working network for drug smuggling. Their first objective was to get rid of Nathan Trevors who was already a major thorn in their side and would only continue to cause more problems. Wolfe's job was to either draw attention away from the hit, or possibly to provide emergency transport out of the raceway.

Wolfe or one of his employers had planted the story in the magazine about getting the driver's job with Hankin's team, thinking that Bill would follow the lead. They hadn't known about Mark's friendship with Bill and couldn't allow him to be anywhere near the team. This hit had been planned for too long to call it off completely so they had to plan around it. If they couldn't kill Mark before and get him off the team, another way had to be found. Killing Mark now wouldn't be necessary, but it would be satisfying, especially to Wolfe if he had managed to find his way to the track. If they couldn't stop Tabor and Jeffers here, that would leave them free to find another team and set up shop at a later date. They had to find a legitimate team that wouldn't generate suspicion, but they would have the time once Trevors was out of the way.

Hardcastle's musings were interrupted by Frank's return. "Okay, I have security looking for our guys. Now we just have to find out who the target is."

"I've got that." Talking quickly, the judge told him about Hankin's friendship with the senator and his guess that Trevors was the target.

"Damn, I've heard of this Trevors. He's a good man and not one to cross. I didn't know about his ties to racing. It makes a crazy kind of sense. We've got to find him and get Mark out of this race." Frank started pacing as he listened to his friend tell him that Sue was looking for the senator. "So we get him under wraps, then find Tabor and friends."

"Guess so..." Whatever else Hardcastle was going to say was drowned out by the sound of repeated gunfire. "That came from the infield!" Hardcastle shouted as he started running toward the sound, drawing his gun as he ran. He noticed that Frank was running right beside him and had his own weapon drawn. People were shouting and ducking as they sought safety.

They reached their own pit area in seconds and found the crew hugging the ground. Kelly was holding a gun as he searched the area for the shooter. Matthews had his weapon out as well and, to Hardcastle's surprise, Riley had a small handgun out as well. There was no time for him to comment on everyone's preparedness as another volley of shots rang out, hitting the oil drums that shielded Hankins and forcing everyone to duck lower.

Frank unlimbered a walkie-talkie from his jacket pocket and started calling for reinforcements. He passed the word that security was on it's way.

"Got him!" Isaiah yelled. "On top of the garage!" The officers in the group began to concentrate their fire on the roof of the garage. Nobody had time to notice that Mark had pulled into the pit area or that the race was slowing down as the attack became known. People in the stands were yelling and shoving as they fought to get out of the way.

Mark took in the situation in a heartbeat and crawled up to where the judge was hiding behind a large tool chest. "You okay, Milt?"

"I'm okay." the judge responded hotly. "Can you see who it is up there?"

Mark poked his head up for a quick look. A shot in his direction forced him back down. "It's Jeffers. What the hell is going on?"

"Keep your head down." Hardcastle said testily. "These guys are after a target alright, a human target. The gun running was just a red herring to throw us off the track." He ducked lower as another shot hit the toolbox. "Can you see Tabor?"

Mark didn't have time to answer as more shots rang out from his teammates. When he peeked out seconds later, he found that Jeffers was missing off the roof. He slowly straightened up and looked around, noticing that the rest of his pit crew was following suit. Holding their weapons in a ready position, all of the officers began to advance on the garage. They were met seconds later by a security squad coming from the opposite direction. The leader stopped and called out, "Lt. Harper?"

Frank put away his gun as he acknowledged the call with a nod of his head. "Did you get him?"

"Some one did sir. It'll take an autopsy to see where the shot came from, you or us. He's dead though, fell off the roof a minute or so ago."

Clarkson spoke up. "What about his partner, Tabor?"

The officer shook his head. "Don't know sir. We can't find him." Before he could continue, Sue came running up with Ray Sutters close behind her. "He took him! You've got to help, Rex took him!"

Billy caught his wife around the waist and swung her around to face him. "Who? Who did Rex take?"

"Nathan. We were walking back here when Rex appeared out of nowhere with a gun! He grabbed Nathan by the arm and forced him to go with him. He said he'd kill him if we followed him." Sue was near tears.

Sutters added. "They were headed for the parking area. Maybe you can catch them."

Mark didn't need anymore encouragement. "Let's go, Judge!" Without waiting to see if Hardcastle was following him, Mark ran back to the where the Coyote was parked just beyond the pit area and had the engine started by the time Hardcastle had jumped in. They sped off, not needing to hear the assurances that help wouldn't be far behind.

Driving carefully but quickly, Mark reached the main parking area just in time to see Rex Tabor force another man into a waiting Porsche and take off. He downshifted and picked up speed for the pursuit. For several long minutes, he followed the other car down the desert highway, trying to drive a straight course that allowed the judge to take several careful shots at the fleeing car. Finally reaching a crossroad, Mark was pleased to see two state patrol cars blocking the exits and two more blocking the main road.

Tabor saw the police cars at the same time and yanked the wheel hard over, sending the Porsche off the road and into the sandy terrain. Mark's Coyote had no trouble with the sand but the Porsche wasn't cut out for it. It took only minutes for Tabor's car to become mired in loose sand. Trevors took the opportunity to bail out of the passenger side and ran for the nearest hillock. Mark cut the power as the judge jumped out of the car and leveled his gun on Tabor. "Looks like you just got out of the racing business," he said with a grin.

Two days later found the group back at Gull's Way for a victory celebration. Nathan Trevors had joined the group and was listening in amazement to the drawn out tale. "They had more tricks up their sleeves than they had skin." Hardcastle was saying as Sarah served more iced tea and cookies. "These guys figured that with the racing team under their control, they could carry out different operations in different towns and not leave a trail for the cops to follow."

"It really was ambitious of them," Clarkson added. "They'd pick up drugs in one town, do a hit or two in the next one, sell the drugs the next week and do a little auto parts theft along the way for spending money. No body would be looking for the same group doing all of it."

Mark dunked a cookie in his milk and looked at it thoughtfully. "It was Wolfe's ego that led him to go after me so badly. He had Steve Miller in his pocket and he was mad that I got the nod from Billy. He got Miller to help plan that fake kidnap/murder thing to get me out of the way. He convinced Tabor that it would take the heat off of his plans if the cops were busy trying to protect me. It didn't take much for Miller to send his uncle, the high and mighty Cedric Sullivan, to get involved. Sullivan is a jackass and Miller played that up. All the attention had to stay on me and the judge so that we wouldn't be able to help Billy with the racing team."

"And that would leave Tabor and friends all clear to worm their way into Billy's confidence and take over. Tabor confessed that the plan was to kill Hankins and his wife as soon as they could and just take over the team outright. With Tabor as a partner, it would look all legal for him to take over the team with Billy dead." Frank said.

Trevors added his information. "Jeffers trained in Columbia with the drug cartels there and found that murder and drugs makes for a powerful combination. He was under investigation as an American connection for one of the more powerful cartels. They put up the money that he and Tabor were hoping to use for the racing team."

Hankins clapped his hands together and shook his head. "I knew forming a team was going to be a lot of work, but I didn't count on any of this."

"I'm sorry, Bill." Mark apologized.

"Not your fault, Mark." Bill stated firmly. "Anyway, I now have a good driver in Riley Lee and Ray Sutters and I have a few more names to add for a good pit crew. This time out, I don't think we'll have any problems." He checked his watch. "Well, boys and girls, it's time for me to leave. I promised Sue a week of sun and fun to make up for all the trouble and I have to pack. Mark, take care of yourself and call me if you want a ride just to keep in practice." With that, Hankins took his leave. The rest of the party broke up shortly after that and soon Mark and the judge found themselves alone by the pool.

As darkness fell, Hardcastle took a long look at Mark. Mark had fallen silent, contemplating the bottle of beer he held and scratching off the label bit by bit. "You had fun anyway, didn't you?" Hardcastle asked.

Mark took a minute to answer. "I love racing, Judge, I always have and I always will. But..."he couldn't finish.

"But what?" his friend asked softly.

"But I found myself getting more satisfaction out of getting Tabor than I did being out on the track again. It made me realize that the work you are doing is real, more real than just driving around in circles." Now Mark looked the jurist in the eye. "And I'm proud, proud that you chose me to help you."

"I'm proud of you too, Kiddo. Who knows, maybe some day you'll find more to do with your life than just following me around. Give it some thought." He raised his beer in salute to his young friend and grinned widely as McCormick raised his beer in a return salute.


End file.
